At night, when I was but a child,
my thoughts, like mustangs, running wild,
were spurred by wind and countless stars,
not to be corralled by bars.
Anywhere I chose to be,
imagination carried me
and sweet delight would fill my soul
as happy dreams came to unfold.
Adventures read about in books
would come alive with spies and crooks,
as heroes came to save the day
and on white horses rode away.
I could be a princess pouring tea,
a sailor on a ship at sea,
a pioneer out on the plain
tending herds in pouring rain.
Every possibility . . .
anything my mind could see.
On magic carpet I could ride
with faithful pals right by my side.
Sometimes I braved the fight alone,
an injured warrior carried home;
a hero due to some great quest
with medals all across her chest.
In time, I came to realize
good people come in every size.
They live and learn; they make mistakes.
Sometimes they're real; sometimes they're fakes.
And each and every one has dreams
that sail undaunted by our means.
We all long to be the ONE
who fought the fight and somehow won.
~ Linda Gleason ~
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