Jackie Allen Poems
I Am What I Am
When I was but a wee child,
two or three or more,
I dreamed that I could fly like a butterfly.
Over the mountains,
on wings of adventure
I sought out branches of laurel
and like a fairy,
I crowned my head with a ring of joy.
High above, when the clouds
up in the sky began to darken, began to cry,
I wished, at ten or so, that I was as small
as a mouse, so that I could scamper
into the rhubarb patch
and hide beneath their umbrella-like leaves,
munching on their juicy red stems,
making mouse-like noises.
Early in my teens, ...
Between the old
And majestic mountains,
There lay within the woods
Many a concern.
The wind howled and branches, stalwart trees
Alike, with the young,
Strained and broke.