Used to wake up
in the morning wishing
I had become someone
else in the night.
Someone prettier, wiser,
braver, taller and thinner.
Someone more driven
to keep small commitments,
less inclined to lead
with her mouth, able
to keep dangerous thoughts
confined in her mind,
not letting them spill out
to stain counters, carpeting,
scraps of paper and other
flat surfaces.
Fairy godmother
never came, no matter
how long I wished
or waited. Realized
that had she appeared,
might have been that one
who claimed her services
came at a high premium,
might have told me
that I could only have one
wish, instead of usual three
because magic is priceless,
not to be squandered
on someone like me.
Was glad to finally let loose
of such childish illusions.
Knowing that one wish
would never be enough,
became my own
fairy godmother,
waving my wand,
daily squandering
magic of words
that have let me become
someone like me.
Elizabeth Crawford 5/4/07
Posted For Poets United Poetry Pantry http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2013/01/poetry-pantry-133.html?showComment=1358692921198#c6902259651328847389
Soul's Music 
Ha, such wisdom here, Elizabeth. Indeed one wish or two or three would never be enough if a person could achieve things just through the wishing. Plus, I don’t think a person would know the JOY of achievement either if all came through wishing. You are who you are through your own hard work, and you can savor your achievements which came undoubtedly through thought and ‘sweat equity.’
I do agree with you Mary, but we are first taught in fairytales that wishes do come true sometimes. It takes a bit to get past that wishful thinking and into the day to day reality of actually living and working toward our dreams. Some of us take longer than others,
Elizabeth
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Such a lovely sentiment. Nicely summed up with a great ending.
Thank you Aprille, glad you found it lovely. I have built my life around words, so the ending was inevitable. It was Freud who originally made the statement about how words were once believed to hold magic power, and that they continue to do so, even today,
Elizabeth
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Well well Cinderella, thank you for the wake up call.
I did that too Elizabeth, wake up
in the morning wishing
I had become someone
else in the night.
Someone prettier, wiser,
braver, taller and thinner.
Now I work hard and try to persevere.
Thank you for your wisdom.
And I work hard at the magic I still find in words and their meanings. I still, on occasion, find myself uttering a wish and then start laughing. It makes me feel lighter and I like the sound of laughter. Thanks for reading and commenting, Ninotaziz,
Elizabeth
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Beautiful, life affirming words.
Thank you much Anthony, I find them to be so and have to remind myself of that occasionally,
Elizabeth
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it’s so sad in its truth
http://llmcalling.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/showing-that-you-care.html
Thank you for reading and commenting Emma,
Elizabeth
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Lots to consider in this poem, Elizabeth. You show us how much we each have in common, how the yearning binds us and binds us together.
Kim, I think it’s the teacher in me, she is never far from the surface. I like finding common ground, it makes me feel more solid somehow. Thank you so much for your very generous words,
Elizabeth
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priceless.. it was a delightful read..
So glad you enjoyed it Shivani and thanks for the “delightful,”
Elizabeth
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I love this poem, my friend……..I so relate! What a journey it is, away from then back home to ourSelves. You have told it perfectly.
And you, my friend, have caught the movement perfectly. Hope you know that you are some of the beads on my prayer shawl,
Elizabeth
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Cool piece – I believe this to be a common feeling. Love your take on it.
Yes, it is common, especially when looking in the mirror, to wish for something else. Then slowly realizing that the only one who can really make those wishes come true is the one in ones own mirror. Glad you liked it Ollie,
Elizabeth
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Lovely sentiments, nicely written.
Thank you J Cosmo, I needed to remind myself that I did write poetry before I started playing with wordles. This was a good place to start,
Elizabeth
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Someone like you, Elizabeth, wonderful.
Thank you Willow. Although this is an older piece, I can still remember when I realized what that last line should be. A long moment of hesitation, during which I argued with myself about the arrogance of such a statement. The argument ended when I realized, once again, that my poetry has ever been personal, pertaining to me, my story, my person and process. The me, inside that person and process, knew that was my personal truth and no one else could know that but me. I chose to make the statement because it is what I had found was true, no one else could make it less, or more, than that. It was a good feeling.
Elizabeth
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