My middle child, now eleven years old, has always daydreamed. Looking in the rearview mirror in the car, I’d see her staring out the window. Her eyes would be fixed, but engaged and filled with emotion.
She literally didn’t have the words. She would schedule times in the day for dreaming and I could tell there was a whole world inside her head that I couldn’t see, and would never know. I’d encouraged her to try to write about her dreams, but she’d say she just didn’t know how to describe them.
But lately, the words have found their way out. The words have spilled out on the page guided by her pen – or thumbs on the iPod as the case may be. And I finally have a glimpse into her private universe.
This poem makes me so happy. I am overjoyed that I have the privilege to be this confident, expressive, imaginative, brilliant child’s mother. I hope you love it as much as I do.
My Dreams
My world
In my dreams
Where fantasy is reality
Where werewolves run free in the forests
And fairies are not two inches tall
And there evil sorceresses are waiting to be conquered
With light and dark magic
Dwarves, elves, kings, queens
My dreams, my world
Where I have honor and authority
Power
Magic
In my dreams I’m a sorceress
A werewolf
A mermaid
My dreams, my world
My dreams, my imagination
My dreams
This was very good. Olivia is a thinker and dreamer and now a writer. She’s such a smart child! Love her to pieces.