Playing Make-Believe
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I have many happy dreams of my childhood life,
Mother and father and grandma made it special;
Playing make-believe was something I really loved,
I could do that for hours and hours and hours.
Father made me a table and chairs for tea parties,
I even had a cabinet for dishes donated by mother;
Pretty dishes that I dreamt of having myself one day,
And now I have lovely vintage dishes in my home.
(I like to set the table with mixed-up dishes)
Grandma provided some of her old clothes and jewels,
Now I have a passion for vintage clothing and jewelry;
I adored my dolls and still I have many of them on shelves,
They used to sit on chairs listening to my stories.
Mother said, "that girl sure can tell stories and stories,"
I could ramble on for hours and hours and hours;
And the bud of a writer was blooming in childhood play,
And now I write poems and stories gossamer.
(I write of my childhood dreams and my life)
It soon became clear that I loved animals of all kinds,
Carrying them home for repairs and tender loving care;
Father said, " she will either be a vet or work in a zoo,"
I became an advocate for animal rights and protection.
Always I have loved cats and my first came at Christmas,
Snowball was her name and I dreamt of owning all kinds;
A steady succession of cats have brought me happiness,
My old fat cat reminds me of a childhood stuffed toy.
(My kitten needs to grow into her big ears)
Of couse I dreamt of meeting my prince charming,
And I did, the moment I saw him I knew love;
My heart and soul is his forever and for all eternity,
Our love is like a stream that goes on and on.
I once had a good job with the welfare department,
They sent me to Hudson Bay to help the Inuit;
That work was so rewarding and filled me with pride,
But the child in me had dreamt of much more.
(I loved the beauty of the north not the poverty)
I never dreamt that I would ever become a nurse,
But I am and this job brings me happiness;
Helping the elderly has become my mission in life,
A frail hand in mine brings me tranquility.
So much of the child who was me remains,
That little child dreaming and rambling on and on;
She still exits in my soul and she still dreams,
Even sometimes she plays make-believe.
(That girl dreaming , she now dreams poems)
____________________________
August 11, 2015
Poetry/Narrative/Playing Make-Believe
Copyright Protected, ID 15-699-064-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, New or Old 5
Sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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