Reid@YWP

I believed that beneath the tree, 

the branches' shield protected me.

Blocking out the words, the shouts, the pleas,

of others that were being teased.

Amongst the insects, bugs and all,

When I was four I wished for five, 

When I’d be in Kindergarten

When I was five I wished that preschool would come back again

Again at six I wished to age

At seven I wished the same

sipping my ice chai

listening to music with earbuds

with the fire from a candle spreading a beautiful aroma, lavender with a hint of honey

writing in a notebook

If purple is the hardest color
For the eye to see
Then maybe all us purple-lovers
Are seers to the fairylands
Where dawn spirits sing
And poet bells ring
Harbingers of the night
To our awaiting ears.

A young woman sits in a coffee shop in London, England, with her back straight, her head pointed forward, and her eyes wandering into the rainbow mists of Wonderland.

It’s moments like these I wish would never end. 

The sky would never fade into the dark. 

The sea would never storm.

The news would never catastrophize,