Once upon a time, when I was a little girl,
Splashes of colour painted over the world,
With lands and people of my own creation,
Swept up in a surge of imagination.
Forces for good fought evil superpowers,
Scenes of rocky coves and grand soaring towers,
Twirling ballerinas and fluttering fairies,
Lush verdant forests, or castles, or prairies,
Ghostly tales weaved about haunted hotels,
Terrifying monsters and dark witchy spells,
A thousand watercolour mindscapes to explore,
Opportunities rife behind every door,
Within my head magic fantasies would thrive,
And through pen and paper stories came alive.
Ambitious, creative and dreams in my heart,
How simple and possible it seemed at the start.
I never foresaw how it would all change,
Reality struck and the outcome was strange,
My mind decayed: shrivelled and blank,
My creative flair became rotted and rank,
My daydreaming spirit sank fast like a stone
As the weight of the real world dragged it below,
Day-to-day life bombarded my brain,
Filling my headspace with sorrow and pain,
I no longer had scope to create or imagine,
Taught only to analyse, calculate and examine,
My once lively heart was thus torn asunder;
I lost myself and my great childhood wonder.
Now wistfully wishing those days would return,
Yearning to love and to dream and to learn,
Painting a picture with pen in my hand,
Sharing the magic just as I once planned.
Emma H, age 26, 27/02/2017
As a child I was a prolific writer and voracious reader, but as I reached my teens my passion for reading and writing steadily waned. It feels like a lost part of me that I am trying to partially regain through the creation of this blog – however I don’t think my imagination will ever be as fun and fanciful as it once was!