Note: Love sometimes forces the creative muse to take a hike down the road to bathos. My apologies to any and all serious poets, past and present. Enjoy, but be warned: I am in love.
Spun like a top through the turbulent years
Of my twenties, my thirties, my forties- life flew.
At last I landed alone on my side
And I woke up to find myself beside you.
“Who are you?”I wondered, still half-aware.
Only vaguely beginning to comprehend
A mystery had silently happened there.
I’d awakened beside my childhood best friend.
Now I am nine, and you are ten-
And we walk through the woods on our way home from school-
Me with my book, and you with your glove,
We stop by the creek where the water is cool.
And we talk about things most important to us:
Steam trains, distant stars, and all things that fly.
You tell corny jokes you know make me laugh;
I sing sappy songs I know make you cry.
Our lives are like little stories we share
Under the cover of pine trees so tall.
You- my dark-haired piano boy,
And I- your little miss know-it-all.
