My Muse

My Muse

By Carole Brooks

When small, the world was magical

And larger than today.

Pretending was the natural path

that lead my childish way.

Now I see things differently,

Though magic has its place.

Some memories of long ago

I never shall erase.

So as I write for children

As a grown-up with my pen,

I’ll remember days of yore

And try my best again,

To see the world with wonder

From that child who lives inside.

And let her speak of magic

And let her be my guide.

The End