It is not uncommon,
Or so they say,
For a little girl's thoughts
To flit and stray.
Mine go to battles
Fought long ago.
Fought for reasons
Only the good Lord would know.
To days spent in castles,
And nights spent with knights.
To the life of a model
Living under the lights.
To love and hatred,
Monsters and kings.
To dancing ladies
And wedding rings.
A life with a prince,
A pleasant escape.
The Phantom in his opera
Always wearing a cape.
Hours of stories,
Weeks of good fun,
And no need for a favorite
Because I loved every one.
My quiet little spot,
And my favorite memory,
Was among my dear books
In my small library.
**This was written for a contest on Allpoetry.com.**
YOU ARE READING
Peeking Through the Window
PoetryA book filled with poetry I've written and am writing. I'm considering trying to get published, but I don't think I'm really good enough. Please feel free, by the way, to leave comments. I enjoy knowing what people think, as long as they are not r...