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Daydreams
If daydreams start with memories
then I think my favorite one,
Would be the time I lingered in our old barn
where I had so much fun.
The geese were hissing right outside
and fussing with each other,
And I was playing with old rag dolls
made for me by my mother.
We didn’t have fancy things,
didn’t even have store bought clothes.
But we had lots of love
and my cheeks were colored as a rose.
Laughter flowed from my lips in ripples
as water flows in a creek,
There in my own little world,
I had friends that didn’t have to speak.
But talk to me they did
in a language that only I understood.
The baby birds in their nest on the rafters,
made me feel so good.
I listened to their cries
while they waited for their mom to return,
With a bit of food she carried
while I sat on an old cracked churn.
The smell of hay wafted throughout the barn
and cows softly lowed.
My pony nuzzled my hand with love,
reminding me of places we rode.
There were no shoes on my feet
just dust from the clean swept yard,
Life back then was good for me,
nothing seemed to be cold and hard.
I painted pictures in my mind
of places I had read about in books.
I thought of wading in the water
of our glorious mountain brooks.
All these things were just waiting for me,
right there on the old farm.
We had peace in our lives,
I had no reason to fear any kind of harm.
Yes, that would be my favorite daydream,
those days I spent in our old barn,
Making braids for old rag dolls
from granny’s scraps of cast off yarn.
My memories are all I have
to make me smile or dream today.
Of all the times I had long ago,
when as a child, life was good that way.
~Norma Marek~
© June 9, 1993
 
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Made with love April 24, 2004
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