I watch you play upon the stairs,
Lost in your childhood games,
Built by your imagination,
With freedom and no restraint.
Today you are a sailor,
The captain of your ship,
Sailing on the ocean sea,
Procuring a long summer trip.
You sing a song
That you have loved,
Words of an old lullaby,
You sing a song on the stairs today,
Singing loud—you’re not shy.
The stairs are now a jungle,
A land that you explore,
With a monkey and a zebra,
A tiger and a vicious wild boar.
You pretend you’re on a skyscraper
High up in the sky,
Playing like you’re really there,
And wishing you could fly.
Once again, you’re hungry,
Therefore, you stop and eat your lunch,
You’ll be a chef in your own shop,
There’s not much time to stop.
The stairs are now a cherry tree
In your own loved backyard,
With grass and flowers, and bumble bees,
Except in this tree, you cannot scrape your knees.
The stairs yet again, a mountain top
Reaching high into the sky,
But all too soon, it’s evening time
And now, no more time to climb.
(painting by: Kathleen Stevens)
Kathleen's Writings & Art 