Like many little girls,
My childhood was a lot about playing with my dolls,
Tiny handmade dolls - an adorable family,
They had a tiny house, which My Dad made for me,
A house made of wood, with balconies, and railings, and stairs, which enthralled me,
Which fascinated me so much, I thought,
My Dad was the most powerful man on Earth.
I don't have that enchanting doll's house any more,
It was lying uncared for, in a corner after I left home,
Somebody thought - it was occupying too much space,
Nobody played with it any more,
This should be gone,
And...it was gone!
An unequaled, unrivalled, ultimate house in an imaginary world
of a young girl who visualized the world as flawless as
her father's vision and creation,
With tiniest details, and tenderest wishes
to hand in,
A Perfect World from a Perfect Father to his Perfect Daughter!
Copyright © Malabika Ray Choudhury | Year Posted 2020
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.