POETRY SPACE
TRUTH
By; Victoria H.B. Widry ©
Truth makes itself known
In the Tears of the child
And the ways of the Wild.
Truth is a Sound
When there's no one around.
Truth comes as under
In loud peals of Thunder.
And there's Truth to be found
In the wonderful sound
Of the Cricket.
* * *
DREAMS OF YOUTH
By; B.J.
When I was just a little girl, When I needed to be alone;
just a little while...to get away from everything,
I would climb way up high, in the "Old Sugar Maple Tree"...And there on
bending bough; I'd sit and think on life, of me, thee and thou.
And there I'd dream of all the things that I would be, when I grew up.....A
life or two I would recreate....Why I'd be the Queen Galadriel incarnate....Babies
perfect in every way; of that I was so certain.
Why I'd live in a mansion....with servants....to take care of everything,
And lots of money I would have; That would buy my every whim.
I'd even have a brand new car and fancy clothes, no more hand-me-downs.
Rings and things, all my life in smiles...no more frowns.
Slim and Beautiful I would be...a picture of perfection....life would
be a sweet confection.
And of all the things I thought that I would be when, I grew up....While
sitting there, way up high; in the "Old Sugar Maple Tree"....Little did
I ever dream that I would grow up to be....
Just plain me.