Back to poetry this time and this is simply reflections on how small reminders of home, childhood homes, can throw me right back to that little girl I was, all dreams and make believe and stories. A lonely child at times, finding friends in the natural world, when other children were too cruel. I grew up on fantasy and i think a bit always stayed close to my soul. Though practicality may erode the magic, a part of me believes in fairies still, or that a friendly breeze can carry secret messages just for you. :) (On a writing note, I'm leaving off punctuating this one for now...just doesn't seem to fit)
Kansas Winds
Kansas winds
Apple kiss cheeks
Swift fingers run
Through tousled hair
Lift soul's sometimes depression
With whispered caress, never alone
Always home
Homing
Pigeon straight
To midwest girl
Flown far away
Past mountain to sea
Still Kansas breeze
Finds tanned skin
Pushes hard,
Aiding steps, stopping tracks
Wind's whimsy
Directional fate
Blowing memories
Of remembered
Flights of fancy
Flights of fantasy
Long ago winds so strong
If small girls raised her wings
Ran ever so fast
Winds would carry her high
Skim lonely treetops
Spin her wild
Tornado's child
Woman grown
But still she knows
Old friend's touch
Imaginary family
I give kin's kiss
Tie back tangled tress
Secret smile 'cross face
I walk hand in hand
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