Childhood Memories are Not True, They Say (How Can That Be So?)
I see myself as a gleeful girlie
polite and gentle, hair all curly
in dresses pink and frilly,
singing a-tisket a-tasket
a green and yellow basket
I bought a basket for my mommie
on the way I dropped it
I dropped it, I dropped it
as I happily play dainty games
careful of my shiny Mary Janes.
Well, maybe I wasn't truckin' on down
the avenue in quite that fashion,
perhaps less polite, more passion!
Mouthy, bossy, a smarty pants
ever in thorny thickets of banter,
a frisky snippet, head in a book,
knees skinned, a disheveled look.
Poor mommie, I dropped more than her basket,
I changed her tisket and her tasket.
(Wish I could tell her I know
But, it’s too late now.)
No comments:
Post a Comment