Justine Knolle


Over there a father

Is dancing with his daughter.

She is wearing the earrings,

He has only just bought her.

She, innocently swaying,

And moving to the beat.

Is wearing the pink sandals

Upon her moving feet.

Her name could be Stephanie,

Or Joyce or Jane or Faye.

In any case, she likes to move,

To dance, and swing and sway.

Oh, that no harm should come to her.

And the troubles of adolescence

Be endlessly deferred.

Oh, let her dance, and play for good.


I wish I had.

I wish I could.


I wish I could wear her shoes,

Her jewels, her crown.

Now I have to work,

Be serious, and frown.

There is no play without pain.

No childhood without chains.


Now I am free,

For I have done it.

My own accomplishment.

My own merit.



Thursday 4 & Tuesday 9 May 2006


All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Justine Knolle.
Published on e-Stories.org on 05/09/2006.


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