You’re still with me, aren’t you?
Marble playing tomboy, consistently dirty hands,
Climber of trees, rubbed knees, explorer exploring strange lands.
You could be the unlonely loner, didn’t need a crowd,
Old head sometimes, on young shoulders,
Ever watchful at life’s window, with your moody observations,
Told off, acting proud and then siblings (Ever Loud) shout,
“She’s off upstairs again!”
You never tired of the climb, did you?
Never grew bored of standing there,
Never “Cheesed off” with the view, were you?
You’re still with me, aren’t you?
Self consciously approaching your teens,
Duckling to a swan, or vice versa?
No time for the sultry in-betweens,
You’re still with me, aren’t you?
Late blooming lover, approaching your middle years,
Soul mate nurturing your self esteem,
Strengthening body and spirit, through happy days,
Sadness and tears.
Giving you your chance at last, to dream,
You’re still with me now, aren’t you?
Even though life’s now (perhaps) half done,
Memories, stored like cans of film,
Silent projector, the film only for you, being rerun.
You’ll be with me please, at the end, won’t you?
No time then to bemoan or regret,
You’ve been with me from the moment of my birth,
My inner self, my alter ego, KISMET!