Writer's Block: My favorite memory
Hmmmm... I seem to have done it again...
A memory tucked away, far in the past
Closely warm times that never could last
Time lost in decades, but a child of three
Sitting on a lost great grandad's high knee
Laughing along to the songs with a smile
Completely unknowing how short was the while
Enjoying the words that she yet couldn't speak
And the mischief only great grandads can wreak
Looking a boy in a floral pink dress
Alight with an innocence only babes can possess
Horsey horsey and little miss muffet
singing along with the pair on the tuffet
And incy the spider, though much bigger then
And scarier when in the bath he'd been penned
But never flushed down, only caught in a glass
And put out in the garden to play in the grass.
But older we grow, and the memories pass
Up through the nursery, to school and its class
The child without friends who found one in the sun
While painting mummies with their wraps all undone
The flowers were up, and the blosson was sweet
The grass of the playpark cool on their feet
The roundabouts creaked and the swingsets would fly
The only limit on fun they could set was the sky
And despite all the years that sat in between
That first summer's strength kept the bond keen
A summer of clubs, while the parents must work
In the evening to each others houses to lurk
And even beyond, though the school would divide
And send the grown forward, while the young must abide.
Add on another, when the young grow up too
With a mind full of tales and a heart fit for two
So in a year this triad would grow
And each to the next would their writing bestow
A sharing of characters and birth of some more
Each with a great voice that none could ignore
Nights spent in laughter and days in the game
Not three separate hearts, but each a third of the same
In the snow of the winter, or wind of the warm
Weather each day as the heart of a storm
The magic abound, and it could not say no
When the intent was upon for the story to flow
Magical times, and time most well spent
Though it flowed by so fast, the time to invent
Was lost when the youngest must move far away
And leave telling stories for a much later day
Now they are separate, a border betwixt
With a break in the time that could not be fixed.
Though not yet a memory, the healing begins
And sheds the grey years along with their sins
And the stories will flow, as they once did before
Now in the hands of a much bigger corps
with friends that were added in a time of exile
Though the triad remained at her side all the while
And now that they're older, so much more they'll spin
Each to their own, with a thread and a grin
Shared, those tales will grow in their might
And one day be ready for a publisher's height
Or not, if content they remain in the shade
Content with the stories each other have made.
So to the grandfather, and song on his knee
To the very first friends, an insepperable three
To the great coven, who accepted a shade
Who grew mouthy and happy only with their aid
To the family, both of choice and of blood
Who have stayed loyal, through fire and flood
This is for you, the closest of friends
For past, present, future; let's see how it ends.