Childhood

To make-believe
And mystery,
To places only we can see.
Where invisible ink and magic doors,
Hide dusty walls and squeaking floors,
When symbols, codes, and treasure maps,
Lead pirates to sweet ginger snaps.
When birthday cake and storybooks,
Are tucked away in secret nooks.
Caught under-the-covers with fairy tales,
Counting rocks and shells and squishy snails.
To rainy days and movie nights,
To my way, your way, wrong and right.
To sibling rivalries and games,
From calling dibs to calling names.
To finding pictures in the clouds
And being told to quiet down,
To never doing what we should,
To loving, learning, childhood.