Tree House

 

 A platform hidden high above,

in giant maple tree,

Far back in branches that were spread,

Was special world to me.

 

One day it might be penthouse,

For visitors so elite,

While next day it was 'campfire'

Where we sat with grubby feet.

 

I held some parties high above,

Served tea to 'Mrs. Brown',

And even hid, for hide and seek,

From searchers on the ground.

 

A place where distance knew no bounds,

Imagination soared,

Where I could be a 'Queen' with crown,

A 'man' was called 'My Lord.'

 

A special place made for escape,

From cruel world down below,

Where wishes, dreams, and just plain thoughts,

Like seeds, sprang forth to grow.

 

I think back now, to younger days,

Of many hours spent,

In tree house high above the ground,

Perfumed with nature's scent.

 

For it was there, among the leaves,

My dreams were free to roam,

Till Mother's voice called out to me,

'Come down, time to come home.'

 

2004  Loree (Mason) O'Neil

 

 

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