Childhood

The Place to Play1

The summers were hot,
The winters cold.
We didn’t notice or care,
Kayla, Rissy, and me,
Rissy and me,
Or just me.
We had the river
But it was never just that.
It was a border,
An ocean to explore,
Giant was the river,
Oceans with giant fish,
or small enough to leap.
Unicorns, Pegasi, and Pegahorns flew wild,
some spaceships too.
A path to the unknown,
There for us to explore.
Nothing was wilder, or tamer,
More unknown or predictable.
Nothing was more loved, or used.
The facilitator for imagination.2

Strength
What is worse than betrayal?
A betrayal by a friend, friends.
Make up and boys were the topics,
Who cared when you could play?
They did, the clique,
Those one time friends.
Labeled a nerd at age 6.
Girls saw a tomboy,
Boys just saw a girl.
There were others
but they became unavailable.
Then more came,
Others couldn't see them,
Imagination facilitated them.
Their company solved problems,
Yet created more.
Shunned even more and
The teasing became worse.
It made a weak character, low self-esteem,
That was then,
The weakness turned to strength,
True character came through.3

Stories4

His voice filled the car,
deep and relaxing.
It would change sometimes,
Depending on the character.
But mostly deep and soothing.
The hours didn’t seem so long,
Nor the back seat so cramped.
So entrancing was the story
Of a ring and his voice.
Always ready to read,
When trips where long and boring,
And we were to young
to read ourselves.
Stories sparking interests
That turned into lifestyles
and habits for the youngest.
The older two grew tired of them,
But that youngest loved them.
What else did she have?