Jamie's Garden

By Wayne Cook

Once upon a faerie-tale,
My sister and I, plotting,
Squirmed into a looking glass,
All to escape our chores,
And perhaps penmanship from class,
Found ourselves in Jamie’s garden,
Amongst faeries and blooms
The fragrance at once intoxicating
And convenient for a hot Saturday noon!
What once was cold Indian tea,
Became a potion for pretending,
travel to exotic lands and social grace
laughter, forgetfulness,
And soliciting.
Soliciting! How’d that get in our tale?
Well, once in a great telling while,
Even a storyteller of great renown
Gets lost in words, my sweet child!
Since we had plenty of potion in sight,
And since were now so small,
We’d no reason to go home,
And oh,
The tale we’d tell was too darn tall!