I don't remember when I lost my tenderness
And hardened into a thick shelled adult
No more innocent, no more gullible
Like a snake, I have peeled away my old self
It was easy enough, but having shed it
I realize no spring can bring it back!
There was a time when my imagination
Was so fiercely fuelled by fairy tales
How I used to visit the magic realms
Traversing the path from wonder to wonder!
On fancy's feathered wings, I flew
Dwelling with fairies, demons and vampires
Roaming through the gilded hallways of magic castles
Peering into wishing wells
Wandering into enchanted forests
I searched under pillows for tooth fairies
Lay awake in bed to hear a tap on the door
With the ringing plea, falling in my ears
‘Open the door, my princess dear
Open the door to thy true lover here'
Wondering if a slimy frog has leaped over to my bed
Many hours were lost in fearful suspense
Pondering if the hoodwinked Red Riding Hood
Would escape the claws of death in the woods
With bated breath I followed the three Billy goats
On their way to the meadows beyond the bridge
Cursing the wicked troll that lived under it
Scrubbed old lamps hoping a genie would crop up
To bring things, my little heart cherished,
Looked up to see Aladdin on his magic carpet
Whizzing past the clouds,
Once I left my homework undone
Thinking those helpful elves would do it
While I snored away in the dead of the night
Now bereft of all such queer fancies
My brain has gone into lazy slumber
My world once checkered with colorful patterns
Now lies damp, dull and laden with strife!
Childhood has its own charms and fairy tales of our grand mothers is one of those charms. But when we were a child we always desired to grow in a youth as early as possible. a nice lovely write.
explains a crucial phase of life in such sad and joyous and beautiful way. such a wonderful imagination. loved it!
Wow~ What a beautiful piece! It is something I can definitely relate to. A child's perception of the world is so vastly and frighteningly different. Maybe that in itself is the key to happiness - blissful blindness. For people like me who still believe the world holds some hidden magic, facing real life can be that much more difficult. A note though, your life is only as dull as you perceive it to be and make it.
Ah yeah the magical days of childhood overwhelmd by fairytale magic. Here evry cute girl tinks she is princess. So i enjoyd yor super memos poem, thumbs up! Soo nice to read u again valsa.
You tapped into a pervasive nostalgia with this poem. I read all the comments before starting mine and every one is in sync with your sense of loss - to varying degrees. I think Nika has the right response in citing A HIDDEN MAGIC she still finds within, because what she called BLISSFUL BLINDNESS, however enticing, cannot prevail. Your poem, itself an evocation of these tales, is the kind of literature which replaces what's lost. For example, Shakespeare's last plays are a mature grasp of the magic of our imaginations working to redeem mere reality.
ohhhh, that was heart breaking! I was hoping in the end that you found the Genie and the Pot of Gold... a very nice write
a journey into a magical world of fantasy is a great place to go from time to time all poets go there. your imagination is super
On fairy wings you have brought us on a magical, wondrous journey through your beautiful imagination of your childhood that set you free into the world of fantasy that brought you so much joy, your imagination is still on fire! ! I love this beautiful write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
OH Valsa, Valsa there is hope! ! ! ! Your answer comes in a bag of dope! DMT LSD THC they all open the door to fantasy! (HUGE WINK; -))