~Pink Polka Dot dreaming...

Dedicated to 'our' little noodle, Sye, who won my heart over from the very start.

When I was a little girl,

        I wanted nothing more

         than to grow up~

an old soul before my time,

       life lessons taught too soon

      Now I'm grown, not much since then,

       I want to go back and do it again

this time, it'll  be playing dress up 

            in pink polka dot high heels

oodles of butterfly kisses &

      smiling swing sets 

        aside a chatty, babbling brook 

Picture perfect life 

is just a myth & fantasy,

      a big girl can still dream

    can't she? 

Reviews

[Angel]

Ain't it funny how, when we're kids we just can't wait to grow up, and "be our own boss"????
And then you get there, and sadly discover that you have more "bosses" now than ever before!!
And most of 'em are kids!!!!!

Ahhh, well...tis a pretty dream, Frieda...I have it a lot, myself.
But I never put it into words as well as you have done!
Fantastic write, my friend!!

[Frieda P]

Thanks sweet Angel...hopefully all our dreams come true eventually.

[Kylie]

She is the best, Sye, I mean.

This is great Frieda!

[Frieda P]

She's the best! Thanks Kylie.

[Kylie]

She is that. And always a pleasure, when it's about my baby, I gotta read it! :-)

[Keith]

Very sweet, love the image of the polka dot shoes.

[Kristin Lee]

I know how you feel. I was just like this, and am still. Love the image of the pink polka dot shoes!!!

[Leandro Mendez]

aww this was cute for Noodle :) nice job Frieda.

[beautiful dreamer]

awwwe sweet one for noodle poodle free :) i miss you lady!!!

[Rosalind Gale]

*hugs Frieda* and cannot say anymore *more hugs* (thank you for this poem of dreams as big as the world).

[Baby Ricochet]

Dare to dream big...............

[Sally Dinn]

I don't know. What if her dreams were as feverish as my understanding that she grew up?

[kublakhan27]

The mere interaction between you two is cute ;P

[Mark]

yes, wonderful write. and a great tribute to Noodle mom.

when I was young, in fact in the first house I remember as home, there was a woods out back behind a stone wall. I'd climb over it and wander back about a quarter mile to a small brook that was maybe 3 foot wide, maybe smaller... I was much smaller then than my memories I think.

Anyway, that was a magic place for me. I'd go and dream all sorts of things there. Your poem brought back the memory.