We had two daughters,
but it was the little boy in me
that insisted on the house in the tree.
There was room enough
for them and me,
with rope ladder to ascend the tree
the girls preferred the wooden one,
as did our adventurous cat.
Fully rain proofed with window
to overlook the lane
that ran past our home.
An outside lookout post
at least the cat enjoyed the most.
The eldest got some joy
being much more of a tomboy,
but the younger found it difficult
to dance in that small space.
Everywhere else she danced
on her own way to fame,
as Ballet was her passion’s name.
I would have chosen an oak
if there had been that choice,
but a sturdy hawthorn did suffice.
But not even the tea set would entice,
nor even the red berries,
essential ammunition
for a trusty pea shooter,
as any boy would know,
were of any interest.
Hey ho! The dolls house!
Now that was a hit
for a while …
But the stage behind curtains
in the dinning room
stood the test of time,
at every birthday and Christmas tide.
And through the window
the tree house stood sentinel!
Guarding with pride, with me,
their Thespian shows
with full cast of dolls,
dressed in pretty hats and bows,
in the shadow of the May tree.
Our house in the tree.

Fond memories are made of this. Love Hanukah


About David

Devonian writer
This entry was posted in POEMS and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to THE TREE HOUSE

  1. Thomas Davis says:

    What a lovely, lovely poem, David. The little boy in me always loved tree houses too, but I never built one for either my son or daughters. This is outstanding.


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