The first memory I have that is really clear.
Warm, dappled sunlight, filtered through bean plants,
Soft rag doll, so tattered and loved stuck in my pants,
Mommy all large and loving, stretching in the sun
A little sister or brother waiting to come,
Two years old, a memory made by me,
A house, a garden, a cat, a dog, the sea,
When brothers were part of a fun day,
When father came home and still held sway,
When Fairies were real
When People could feel
I’d give any amount of money to recapture the day
When warm dappled light through bean plants did play.
Beautiful…but who says you can’t believe in fairies? I still do 
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