The Tree House
In need of adventure I climb to my tree house.
Eyes closed the swaying tree house becomes a pirate’s ship.
I ride the rise and fall of waves at sea.
The creaking ship’s deck and the dancing branches are not branches at all.
They are drunken sailors singing “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of Rum.”
A blue jay squeals, “Ahoy Matey” as it lands on the ship’s rail.
“Arrgh! Are there really blue parrots?” I wonder.
The blue parrot sounds his warning as he takes to the wind.
“Beware, the new cap’n of the sea,” and I laugh my most sinister laugh.
September 8, 2013