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She’s hiding in the garden At the back of my mind Down the long green slope, From now to then - That child that was And still is But no one sees her. She pretends she’s not there. Believing in elves and faeries And brownies that come In the night to mend shoes And leave no trace, Believing in miracles And love at first sight And Santa Claus filling Christmas stockings. She’s playing in the garden At the back of my mind, And no one knows she’s there Except me. Who is this grown- up So practical and real? No nonsense – deal with it Jobs to be done so get to it, Responsible, serious, Taking the days as they come, Making decisions, joking As if none of it matters. Shell to protect like a turtle, Not easily cracked, Revealing nothing Of the soft, vulnerable interior Where the girl-child plays Among the flowers and trees At the back of my mind, Believing in love and miracles, Where days are happy and long And fantasy reigns supreme, Far down the long green slope From now to then.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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Date: 7/24/2021 10:03:00 AM
Lovely poem which reminded me again of the child inside all of us. Exceptional writing.
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Barbara Peckham
Date: 7/24/2021 12:11:00 PM
Thanks again, my friend.