poetry

gloryboy

My legend was all doodles upon the door.

A bravest tale at four,
  My legend was all doodles upon the door
Of an old hinge-howling, whir-humming refrigerator.
    My sword, a stub of crayon;
My shield, more paper in mom’s cherry desk drawer;
      My heart, the lone creator
Of full-color-dreams fading e’en as they were drawn—
        “Believe as before!” my youth yells from yore:
Worlds at whim and not at war.


Previous Post:
    Poetry: Keep The Key
        https://windstrewn.com/2018/04/11/keep-the-key/


5 comments on “gloryboy

  1. Children’s world views, creatively expressed, are so precious. My mother treasured our creations so much that after her death, when we were going through cupboards, boxes and belongings, we found a stash of them. We had moved from Finland to Australia in 1960. And many, many moves over the years here, as part of my father’s work. And still, she had kept them intact. The oldest of mine was on a tatty bit of wallpaper created when I was two years old. Both sides were pencilled with dots, dashes and stick figures. And mum had written a description of what the masterpieces were about – ‘ family in the rain’. I have it framed on our bedroom wall now.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Not only do I love that you’ve kept such a thing, but that you’ve chosen to honor it so. I also have many such keepsakes; I refuse to part with them. I’ve lately been considering ways I can involve some of them in the new home…

      Liked by 1 person

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