Little girls dream and little girls cry and little girls wish for something more.

Dawn143 By Dawn143, 17th Aug 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/3n5to-6m/
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

Our childhood is marked with instances, emotional periods, experiences that we never forget. I indulge in a bit of deja vu as I journey back to a time in my life, with eager eyes and a wistful soul I peered into my hopes and dreams.

Just A Memory


The wood splintered-faded,
'neath knobby knees and a dipping pen.
Covered by a misshapen umbrella,
her cabana in the rain.

As the tears fell from the sky
to salt the earth.
A little girl sat spilling her woes
to an audience of one.

Cylinder with gnawed on plastic
the ink a mottled mess
staining fingertips with black.
Her newest conquest the grey curious cat,
with tender eyes and a nasty habit to bite.
Soft fur and lithe body weaved
to comfort goosebumps raised,
on her crouched profile.

The world was no oyster,
but a chinese finger trap.
Catching her with tightly crossed fibers
that squeezed and pulled
at her throbbing heart.

Hiding her face in a spiral notebook,
wanting to be seen yet yearning to crawl--
in attic spaces and lay claim to a wardrobe.
Her thoughts were patters of rain
on the roof, on the clanging feed bowl
sitting nearby on the concrete step.

Would she be a singer,
could she be an artist?
Would she fall and trip
to reach her dreams?

Her pen kept moving
revolving like the fan on her
scarred dresser, looping--whirring
her thoughts were flamenco dancers,
then ballerinas, then Fred Astaire and Ginger
on a starry night.
She hummed.
Crooning songs that had no business
there, in a day where,
music was an experiment.

No the rain was her thunder,
her lightning the words,
striking out as a lawless vigilante,
where cars filled with modern people
sped past and
didn't notice
a little girl dying inside,
a little girl wishing for
pretty lies and a window seat.
An audience with smiling faces,
and shining eyes,
where she could wear ballet slippers,
and dance the tango in a dress
that hid her knobby knees and
freckled cheeks.

Tags

Cat, Dancing, Dreams, Fred Astaire, Girls, Life, Memories, Pen, Poem, Poetry, Wood, Writing

Meet the author

author avatar Dawn143
My real passion is writing poetry, but I also have begun to dabble in writing a children's story and a fictional novel. I also like finding fun facts about animals, I enjoy researching similar areas.

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Comments

author avatar Shamarie
20th Aug 2015 (#)

I love the emotion and tone of your work, Dawn! Great job!!!

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author avatar Carol Roach
21st Aug 2015 (#)

I too love the emotion of your work

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