I have the Peter Pan disease, I know. I don't care. I want to live in Never Land and not grow old and ramble about with the Lost Boys. I want to be bathed in Tinker Bell's fairy dust. I am mischievous and boastful and, like Peter, become very depressed at the idea of Wendy's growing up and "shutting the window" so to speak.
But that is what happens, and when it does. . . it is time to move on to the next adventure.
Goodbye Wendy. Goodbye Tink.
Uh-oh. Gotta run. I hear the tick-tock of the clock in that old Crocodile's belly.
ReplyDeleteTinkerbell: Upon the Loss of Innocence in Composition
Raise the sheets
and we’ll sail around
the coves at night,
our hearts on fire
for the treasures of desire.
The tops of the trees growl
the wind from the sea,
the tiny light asleep.
The captain sharpens his
sword
with the light of the moon
sailing all around the world.
What would they say
if they knew
about these pirates
in the dark
singing their bawdy songs
opening chests with rusty keys
chasing children through the winding streets
of quiet harbour towns
just before dawn,
when the dreams are strong
the sea breeze in the trees
while the tiny light sleeps,
“wake”” the children cry
there are dusty things
clinging to the leaves
the street lights weave
there are awful men who shout
and wave their rusty keys about,
yet still the tiny light sleeps,
changing change will never do
and nothing much
remains the same
save the captain
sharpening his sword
with the light of the silvery moon.
Remember, of course, that his last name is Pan.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI didn't remember posting this. So way back when.
I fear we need to look at the digitals. Bit by bit.
Okies. That's all the looking back for this morning. The crossword was too silly to continue so I came here.
:)