Fantasies

If I were born in a mythical world
I wonder who’d I’d have been
A prince or princess
in the most elegant dress
made out of the finest satins
Or perhaps a pauper,
a fishmonger’s daughter,
set for a life of hard labour
Who’d dream of princes
and the tastiest minces
then marry the son of the neighbour
And would there be dragons
perhaps even gryphons
in this world of fantasy?
Maybe talking cats
and egg-laying bats
all living together harmoniously.

But I am me with all my quirks
and sit here with my dreams
With my fairy-tale-long hair
and oft mystical airs
I am never who I might seem
My many tattoos
give few clues
to the person lying inside
A friend, a foe
who could know
because I always like to hide
But for those I like
I just might
give a hint or two
Then let you in
to the fantasy within
tucked between the imaginings of you.

© 09/04/2012.