a poetry e-zine

 

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Poems By Danielle Klee

 

SACRED POCKETS

I guess I never really realized how special you were;
always having been a small part of me.
I remember when we first met,
you were a birthday gift from Mrs. Little,
the sweet old woman who used to watch us.
She never missed my birthday.
The year before, she had presented me with Peter Pan,
filled with color, adventure, and heroic deeds,
it will forever remain my favorite story.
That was why she gave you to me,
You were just like the kiss,
the kiss Wendy gave to Peter,
the priceless present that took her to Neverland.
Small and silver,
my ticket to another world.

My companion in crime, you accompanied me on all of my greatest endeavors.
Reigning over kingdoms,
taking hold of castles,
saving the world for all eternity.
I was always the queen, of course,
and you,
my faithful servant.

Summer nights on the lake,
together we searched for shooting stars and watched the fireflies,
joining them in their enchanting dance.

Protecting my soft fingertip,
my shield, my comrade in battle;
guarding me with all your being.
You would sit upon my finger as I secretly embroidered my pockets.
Bright and colorful depictions of our adventures flooded their linings.
Our stories and memories;
A secret between only the two of us.
When we were finished I always re-attached you to my special shoelace,
the one I always wore around my neck.

You rested on my heart,
the place you still remain.

But as the seasons passed, things began to change.
It was no longer ‘appropriate’ for a girl my age
to wear a frivolous trinket
around her refined neck.
Afraid of your confiscation,
you took refuge in our precious pockets.

We no longer rode the wind’s back,
or counted the days of forever.
We forgot the bright colors,
the sunshine yellows and ruby reds of our embroidery.
Dull earth-tones,
they became the new means of our expression.
We repaired piles of old table cloths and dresses.

And then it happened.
One morning I tucked you in our haven,
later that afternoon went back to retrieve you;
You had vanished.
You made your escape through a small, unnoticed hole at the bottom of the lining.

Where had you gone?
I could only hope you were safe, and free, like we used to be.
Free to go to the ends of the earth and back again.
Free.

But still;
I can’t help but miss you;
my companion,
my dreamer,
my escape.
Time is no longer measured in forever.

I will never replace you,
although, I still do sew.
A small, hard callous has taken your sacred place.

Most things in my soul have stayed the same,
But two things remain empty;
a small piece of my heart,
and the plain lining of my pockets.


Danielle Klee is a resident of San Diego, California and absolutely loves life. Her favorite past times include running, swimming, singing, and of course, writing. She could not live without the beach or, even more importantly, Christ. His creation is her constant inspiration and joy, and she thanks Him each day for how blessed she is to be living life.
 

 

Copyright 2007  Chantarelle's Notebook