One Day of Gold
One Day of Gold
A troubled youth and “unloved” was she.
A teen of many tears and sorrows.
Who hoped and dreamed about tomorrows.
Fantasy was her reality.
“Cinderella” was one game she played
While scrubbing out fireplace soot
She imagined her with one bare foot.
Awaiting her prince, cheerfulness stayed.
“Snow White” she was in her childhood dreams.
Bringing to house chores imagined fun.
Singing and cleaning until work was done
Filling her thoughts with romantic themes.
Day after day in a dreamy world
Sitting in trees with the chirping squirrels.
Sorrows like bullets, fantasy hurls.
Distress in her heart became unfurled.
There was no prince to take her away.
Reality hit; delivered pain.
She wanted to die and not remain.
Magic words eased not her inner fray.
Down from the corner, up to her house.
Came a young man who knew her heart fain.
What they did next was fun, not insane.
For a moment, time breathed without grouse.
She brought out a table, round, two chairs.
On the top of the garage, he placed.
Imaginary cups, smiling faced.
Tea time and talking shared, free of cares.
When he went home, she knew not his heart.
Back to imagination she fled.
Reality, light, he could have shed.
Blindly she extinguished a sweet start.
I wish I could find you; I am old.
But in this sweet memory I find
A smile comes to my, now peaceful mind.
And I thank you for one day of gold.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 6, 2010
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