We stood at a window . . .
cousins, you and I
while our parents talked
about the everyday things
parents talk about.
We weren't listening
just looking for fairies
to spring up in the grass
expectant, waiting
for we had been told
if we were very good
and very still
with squinted eyes
we'd see them.
A small leaf rustled
in the ivy
one and then another
and we burst into giggles
as children do . . . when they see fairies.
Joanne Cucinello
oh i love that one joanne.. how fanciful and innocent....
ReplyDeleteThank you, paisley.
ReplyDeleteChildhood is precious.....
good job, the poem reminds my of sweet candy and sugarcanes
ReplyDeleteOh the joy and fancy of childhood. The innocence and creativity =)
ReplyDeletehey..this is really sweet n well written..keep it up!
ReplyDeleteI thank both of you so much,
ReplyDeletePenblots and rohini. I'm so happy you enjoyed this!
Thank you,Quackster! Childhood is truly such a precious time.
ReplyDeleteThis is a charming poem. Simple and memorable. Fanciful and to the point. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThis is very sweet. I like it. We still do this as grown women, don't we? ;)
ReplyDeleteDasha
http://aholeintheroof.blogspot.com/
Thank you, Nothing Profound. Your kind comments are appreciated so much.
ReplyDeleteHi Dasha,
ReplyDeleteYes, we do. . .and the fairies giggle!
Thanks so much!
Indeed, youth sees the wee ones! Such a delightful post, thanks for bringing it to the web...
ReplyDeleteMargaret...