Once precious child, once newly minted life. Fresh ideals and outlook. How bright things seem as you dance among your dreams, precious flowers and buttons, fascination at life.
How delight can change to dismay, as those around you don't seem to understand. How wearing, how draining, as life is sucked away as the dismal clouds of gloom surround to smother your dreams.
Odd, I find that I am an impassionate observer of tinsel and ribbons, laughter and singing, odd that it is so.
Under the surface lingers a memory, a memory of magic, a memory of life. Longing ever present longing to gather jewels again.
I have folded my dreams, and put them in my pocket. I did it on purpose, a young girl trying to grow up and I have. My dolls sit silent in a closet, away from the stares of ignorance at the magic they once held.
Fairies and phantoms, Santa Claus, shivers of fear in the dark. I would trade this cynicism for another chance, I would give away all my grown up idiocy in an instant.
Yet I am always running, trying to catch the train I have missed. I fall to my knees in a prayer, exhausted, I try to conjure my innocent belief. Remember how it once felt to believe.
Poetry in prose; this is what I think of this piece. Something everyone thinks at least once in their life is to roll back to childhood. Well done!!! Sometimes, ignorance is bliss, yes! Keep writing!!!
ReplyDeleteoh, SG- I don't believe you are impassionate to laughter and singing. I refuse. Have you not noticed? we all are trying to rediscover that which we have lost. Come along. ~rick
ReplyDeleteAlas, this sounds all too painfully familiar. Sigh...
ReplyDeleteAjay, yes roll back, wish that I could keep the wonder of childhood. Thanks as always for reading. ;D
ReplyDeleteRick, I knew as I wrote that, that it was only partially true. I left it because I feel like the delight is somehow missing from laughter and singing that was once there. I sing and laugh, but in a grown up way, its kind of different.
:0)
An excellent write, do keep writing , most enjoyable.
ReplyDeleteYvonne.
It's not impossible to relent those grown-up ways and revel in what still remains. It's just not easy either. But no, I don't believe that you don't carry that child, even though it is different, but it doesn't have to be. It involves stretching the eyes and seeing anew.
ReplyDeleteSG,
ReplyDeleteHave you tried telling stories? I'm sure it would be so much easier for you to make them.
This one is pretty good.I could almost see the characters of those fairies with phantoms with Santa. hehehe. I guess I'm a bit weird, but this is musings turned into poetry.
Z
SG what a beautiful walk down memory lane, you had me skipping and hopping, then running back home to take out all my dolls and play with them, back then, we the child were the ones trying to act like the grown up, How funny and wonderful life is.
ReplyDeleteI have been told on many occasions , what have you had to drink?? as my playful personality is childlike, some assume I must be drinking to be in such a happy go lucky state of mind. My reply to them was and is.. I am on nothing, my tummy is full of just being little ole me.Being a kid at heart in a mature fashion makes me feel how precious life is, how awesome it was to be a KID
TY for taking me there AGAIN.. smiles
It is so nice to keep our memories of childhood in the closet, bringing them out to play with every so often.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your reflection.
Blessings, Star
A beautiful piece honey...ironic that my last post is about trains...
ReplyDeleteHmmmmmm... if only we realized (while we were living through our childhoods) how important it was to relish that period of innocence. Still, perhaps the trick in adulthood is to try and recapture the 'beauty, freshness and carefree nature' of childhood fancies!
ReplyDelete