

Concentrate,
a word I heard a lot in childhood
Teachers voices echo still
I have gratitude for one who taught me to read?
Too many adults inflate their ego
As though stroking a cat
No time to remember when they knew less
They expect us to read between the lines
Hard to do, aged ten
It’s true, I could have tried harder
Rather than daydreaming
Wishing I could fly around the world
Backwards in time
Singing about the strange worlds
I see with my mind’s eye, delicious exotic food
Smiling happy people made my trip out of mind worthwhile
Maybe there should not have been so many?
I believe, time spent dreaming
Taught me more than school ever could…
©anitadawes 2020
Leave a reply to D. Wallace Peach Cancel reply