My Place
I cannot recall my very first place
as a baby I did not know my home;
a new baby's room dressed with pretty lace
dad's dog was under the crib to watch~roam.
They say the walls were all painted yellow
the cute stuffed brown monkey laid beside me;
monkey and me were tucked in for a nap
in a room not pink like pretty jell-o.
My parents would pray for me on one knee,
then rocked me and brown monkey in their lap.
My place changed many times along the way,
as a baby~toddler~child~teen I grow.
Out the window I saw big clouds of gray,
I felt this gray~I did not like the move.
So very hard to have many a friend,
all this moving is not made for a kid.
All we do is packing and unpacking,
it really hurts a kid in the end.
I love the tall new slide ~ down I did slide,
what in the world was that crazy cracking.
My place~bedroom and friends were new again,
on the pretty curtains were gray kittens;
all this moving~packing was a huge drain,
the curtains had gray kittens no mittens.
This yard was really really big,
I found three girls in my new neighborhood.
Four of us would play for hours having fun,
we loved to put on costumes and wild wigs;
then climbing up in the pretty dogwood,
hungry late in the day home we would run.
Date Written: 4/30/2022
2 Place
c. place
HowManySyllables and Rhymezone
Form O- Ode- New poems Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
Copyright © Paula Goldsmith | Year Posted 2022
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