STONEHENGE POEM 3

The day passes and the rain falls. Delighted to be inside, we hide and write.

---

"Goodbye…? Oh no, please. Can't we go back to page one and do it all over again?" Winnie-the-Pooh

The Doll

So gentle was the child as she sat,

Talking to her friend made of porcelain,

She gave her dress a press and a pat,

So pleased she was with her dainty gait.

Frigid in her pose the doll smiled,

Untouched by the issues of the day,

She in her perfect way her aspect mild,

Her shining eyes glassy seeming gay.

How lucky are the pair complicit,

In their prattle full of mirth and light,

Their conversation of convention explicit,

A game repeated in a tone so bright.

The laughter pealing through the room,

Appealing to the senses as the sun,

Reminds us of the innocence of childhood,

A life so knowing only just begun.

"But what I mean is, lots of time you don't know what interests you most till you start talking about something that doesn't interest you most." J.D. Salinger