deepundergroundpoetry.com

'Neath that Oak Tree

I sit by still—
In memory
At a playhouse built for me

I stare blankly—
In my mind
At all the things left behind

I sleep tenderly—
In my head
Upstairs on a bed

I catch daddy long legs—
In thought
Remembering all those caught

I play there—
In spirit
At the kitchen where I sit

I lie by still—
In memory
At the playhouse ‘neath that oak tree


April 9, 2012
Written by amara13
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2 reading list entries 1
comments 1 reads 641
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:45pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:39pm by nightbirdblue
COMPETITIONS
Today 1:05pm by Grace
COMPETITIONS
Today 1:04pm by Grace