Treehouse (A True Story)

I dreamed of living in a tree.
It seemed just right for you and me —
To climb and be above it all,
Since we were neither of us tall.

I dreamed that we would live there, but
The doorway to our joy was shut;
My age not right for us to mix,
Since I was five, and you were six.

They say that number’s just an age:
But yours was on a different page —
I had it all planned out, you see:
A boy, a girl, a love,

A tree


© Torky | Dreamstime.com

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Treehouse (A True Story)”

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