Thursday, April 16, 2009

Princess Di: age 7

A galloping child
knows nothing of guile
head crowned with golden flowers

Holes in the knees
of hand-me-down jeans
escaping the evil king's powers

She's frightened and still
she sprints down the hill
Eyes wide and breath short with excitement

The horses draw near
but the prince she can hear
to save her, much to her delightment

She climbs up a tree
from there she can see
him slaying the guards all around

The king runs away
Her prince saved the day!
He helps her back down to the ground

But now it gets dark
The forest's a park
Her playtime and daydreams are done

Thanking her friend*
for the fairy tale end
she goes home to sleep with the sun

*This friend (the prince) is intended to be imaginary.


Janae said...

Your poem makes me want to sit on the step. I sure wouldn't mind sitting there with you again. :)

Barney Lund said...

Personally, I think it's your best poem. Really cool, Diane. I'm going to StumbleUpon it.