I want to be a space invader,
somewhere out beyond the stars.
Or I might be a space crusader,
bringing peace to inhabitants of Mars.
Maybe I could be a news reporter;
my pictures would span the Universe.
Or a pirate (even if I didn't oughta)
with paralysers, killer rays and worse.
Oh yes, my dreams are huge, but just between us
I'm afraid that they may never come to pass.
I'm still a child, stuck here on dull old Venus –
not to mention that my body's molten glass.
Written for Soviet Kitsch, Day 11 of Poetry Month at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.
I love the rhythm of your rhyme here, Rosemary. :)
ReplyDeleteThis is wonderful, almost like a nursery rhyme, and with the wonderful conclusive last stanza.
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree it is like a cosmic nursery rhyme. Great stuff!
ReplyDeleteVery fun poem. I hope the dream comes true!
ReplyDeleteI think it's close to most of us. Every person was dreaming in childhood. It makes warm feelings of dreaming and disappointment.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a chanting kind of nursery rhyme when children may sing and dance as part of the action. Love the punch of the last line.
ReplyDeleteFun for sure and it reads so smoothly. A kid's poetry book is calling.
ReplyDeleteThis is a hoot, Rosemary!
ReplyDeleteSo much fun!
ReplyDeleteLove that you brought her voice!
ReplyDelete