Friday, October 25, 2013

At eight years, a child (OctPoWriMo Entry #24)



At eight, I still believed
in happy endings, watched
enchanted as, wishes granted,
heroes vanished into the sunlit
blendings of twilight.  I thought
love and fame and fortune were
a certainty of time, that rhyme
was a natural consequence
of speech and nothing
quite out of reach.

I am not eight
anymore.


Poet's Note:  The prompt to look back at our 8 year old selves, our dreams, ambitions, etc.

4 comments:

  1. Anna, this is fantastic! One of my favs of yours. I love how you expressed the theme of disillusionment. None of us are 8 anymore.

    Especially liked:
    " heroes vanished into the sunlit
    blendings of twilight."

    Also loved your rhyme pattern.
    Thank you.
    xoA

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    1. Wow; thanks! I'm so glad you liked! Even if I do sorta wish I was 8 sometimes. Sigh. :-)

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  2. that rhyme
    was a natural consequence
    of speech

    the perfect poetic comment,

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    Replies
    1. And what a lovely comment! Thank you! :-D

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