When I was but a woman-child
In days of nubile wonderings
I never knew to laugh or cry
With emotions that meandered
I'd be a "Tom Boy" some would say
Then climb the tree to hide
I'd play the astronaut of dreams
On cumulus clouds I'd fly
I'd climb as high as limbs would hold
Then stay for hours pretending
I'd watch below as siblings played
Stray with my thoughts daydreaming
I knew that I was Princess Grace
My father deemed me she
He also said that I'd grow up
Become who I wanted to be
I saw the temples of Tibet
In clouds where Shagri La
Was just a movie for some folks
But for me it wasn't far
Then there was the waltzes
Where the Prince always smiled
As I circled stairs in heaven
Then walked toward him for miles
I would sit for hours sketching
The ballgowns that I knew
Would house the frame of dreaming
In phosphorous and blue
I dreamed of all my wishes
Coming true that afternoon
Then I settled down in branches
And dreamed of seeing you
I was a romantic even then
A child of mysterious flirt
I'd tuck my knees up under me
If I'd climbed up in my skirt
Afterall I was a lady then
My Grandma told me so
And if I'd dream of wonders
Then I could watch them grow
I love my memories so far
Moments with the birds and bees
And all my dreams that grew from then
Planted in a Chinaberry Tree.
I don't remember dreaming as much as this when I was a boy, but I did
spend a lot of time in trees. I loved to climb and play in them, I felt at home in nature. I probably would have dreamed of saving the world, but I didn't know it needed saving then.
This is awesome it's bringing back memories right now.
This one is special! You have captured the dreams of young girls everywhere who like you spent time in trees,or wherever seeing themselves in all of the roles you mentioned. What a magnificent writer you are Susan!Kudo's!
Susan, this brought back many memories for me...I use to love to day dream as a child. You brought to this reader a scenery of beautiful images, memories one holds dear, and a poem with many interesting topics to build a readers imagination. This is a nice writing.
Me and my cousins would have the obligatory chinaberry fights, they hurt. But, when they got too tame we would move to the barn for corn cob fights....now they really hurt when you got hit upside the head with one. But our good ole Moms said, "you boys be careful and if you get hurt don't come cryin to us unless there is blood."
Sweet memories, thanks.
This reminded me when I was a kid of the Chinaberry Trees. I grew up on a mill village and we had what I called then a pop gun. It was some sort of plunger that was used in the mills and looked like a bobin of some sort. We would put the chinaberrys inside the gun and used the small plunger handle to pop the berry out the other end. It would make a pop, thus the pop gun. Your poem reminds me of my grand boys and the way they love climbing the magnolia tree in our yard.
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spend a lot of time in trees. I loved to climb and play in them, I felt at home in nature. I probably would have dreamed of saving the world, but I didn't know it needed saving then.
This is awesome it's bringing back memories right now.
Love, Pierre.
Thank you Susan the imagery is priseless
Thak you so much for sharing your wonderful thoughts
Love & Peace Be with you
William
Love,
Eileen
Aren't tree nature's playground! Lovely poem.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Sweet memories, thanks.
Walt
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.