The little girl was playing with her imaginary friend.
Deep in conversation, her mind on a different plane.
If I turn back time, I could be that little girl.
I envied this; her here and now childhood.
It awakens in me of a time in memory.
Ah… to be that young again.
Of having an imaginary friend.
To step onto a plateau far beyond this one.
Time. This one itsy tiny bit of problem.
It moves too fast to slow down. I am a grown up now.
The child sees the imaginary friend.
I look and look; I see a little girl talking to herself.
To stay as Peter Pan; my inner child having a say.
So I envy this little girl her magical world.
Of innocence linking into a world of make-believe.
An imaginary friend to get into lots of trouble with.
By C.E. Pereira