Dreamer

 

My Mother Winifred Rose Peace, my brother Peter and I 

Last night I had a dream in brilliant summer colour. It was a simple dream of myself as a child of eight or nine. Both my parents went to work all day and in the holidays I was very often left under my own rule. My parents were very strict and I was drilled on my behaviour constantly.  My mother sometimes gave me errands to run or messages to take but for the most part I took care of myself and wandered miles on my own. I didn’t have a bike until I was older when I got my brothers bike handed down to me when he went on to High School.

 

 

I have always been a dreamer and was happy in my own little world, I did not get bored. On a sunny day I would go to the beach, if my friends or my cousin John was around, but when they were all elsewhere, I very often went to Beach House Park or as I called it then; The Flower Park, it was only about five minutes from my house. I had a key around my neck should I want to go home. Sometimes I made up games for myself but other days I just walked endlessly along the flower beds, gazing with total wonder at the shapes and colours of all the flowers. OK, I was a weird little kid. This may be why I am still not travelling on the same path through life as normal people might prefer.

 

 

When I woke this morning I was confused as to why I had that dream. It was a little worrying for some reason and I found myself trying to put it aside and not think about it. Maybe in the cobwebs of my mind I remembered other things that happened in those days that were not as nice as an afternoon with the flowers had been.

 

My Brother and I on a T.A. family outing to Dorchester 

Flower Child  

Last night I dreamt I was a child  

I saw the child that played for hours

Doing the things this child had done 

Dreamer played in Beach House Park  

My own best friend may I remark 

A peaceful day my mood was mild 

Gazed intently into flowers 

In my own company at one  

My thoughts a new game had begun

Escaping from a home life stark 

Curly hair now looking wild

So sure that I had special powers   

Any day that held no showers

A vision chased in summer sun 

Follow lines that make no mark

By choice from others now exiled  

Dreamer played in Beach House Park

Doing things this child had done

I saw the child that played for hours

Last night I dreamt I was a child