To Be Four.

I miss being four years old.

Residing in a land of make believe,

Everything I needed was right there to receive.

Singing at the top of my lungs, dancing around,

Playing hide and seek, just waiting to be found.

Wishing on bright stars, pouring out my dreams,

Everything is solid, the world as simple as it seems.

Wearing clothes mismatched, shoes on the wrong feet,

Going to bed late is still a little treat.

Knights and dragons, princesses and the like,

Riding away in triumph on the white horse of your bike.

Decisions are made for you, but the ones you have to choose

Consist of nothing more, really, than which color crayon to use.

Tag and dodgeball, foursquare and more

Playground games to some, for us a small war.

Poptarts and mac'n'cheese, chicken fingers too

Nothing thrills me more than when my mouth can be turned blue.

Sprinklers and picnics, popsicles in summer's sun

Days lasting forever, and we number every one.

Life was so much easier, the world seeming so carefree

I miss the ways of childhood, and the way things used to be.

(: Have a Terrific Tuesday!