I sit in the evening warmth,
Remembering a time long past.
Through the memories flowing,
I see a young child without task.

I clearly remember this point in time,
As though only yesterday.
I was a child deep in thought,
Cherished dreams let out to play.

I remember the old house,
Just beyond the slight rise of a hill.
Shutters falling down from the walls,
Wood lay rotting in the window’s sill.

Trees bare in the early fall,
Leaves carried away by the wind.
A youthful child propped against a bole,
Deep in daydreams visited again.

The aged house turns to a palace,
As seen in this child’s active mind.
A beautiful Princess in gown so grand,
She is greeting a Prince, royalty defined.

Smiles beam across her innocent face,
As the dream, continues to flow.
Lost in surrealistic aspirations,
Her reluctance to the old house grows.

Memories drawn from daydreams,
I see my youth sitting at the tree.
I still search for my royal prince,
Alas, in my lifetime it is not to be.

Gayle Davis
August 27, 2004©
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