Puff a rascal was, born brave as innocent conceived,
was delighted in by such a lad whose simplicity believed,
as Jackie's youth did wonder and itself imagined free,
when wary of an evil 'fore its time flew far to fantasy.
Summoned by a childish will came a creature scalÚd green,
whose arching tail thrust master Jack to heights no mortal'ed seen,
and legendary made a ship on which he proud and pompous floated,
as o'er the hoary crowns and noble gowns he in triumphant gloated.
But yielding he, like clusters of the vine to ferment's souring age--
for sweetness from the virgin plum turns wine within a barrel cage--
left his tender years behind and adolescent dreams outgrew,
and bid to unreality and dragon myths a scheduled, sad adieu,
thinking that escaping friends of lore and tales made giant tall,
would bring him to maturity and manhood's august hall.
Instead, he less than measured up and sank beneath his peers,
finding that the quest of heroes' crowns 'twas but a victory of tears,
and there recalled the magic days when faith made true his play,
until emerged the boy that in memory deep forgotten lay.
Now a man with wife and bairnies he must call his own,
and a life that takes up reaping what early he had sown,
is by whim and fancy of yesteryear a visit lengthy paid,
that he and all his house may revel in the world again where once he happy played.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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This sent me back on a long journey - PP&M and all that. Thanks Tim for another insightful poem about the power of children's play, the world of imagination, and the hope of returning to that lost kingdom. I hope your home is a happy reverie.