The Child Within

This poem has been written as part of Sahil Patel's (Medium writer) Lifeline's poetry prompts. Thank you, Sahil for the invite.

Today's prompt is: Poetry is a great way to reconnect with your inner child. Write a poem describing the delight, innocence, and nostalgia that are evoked when an adult finds a treasured childhood toy and plays with it. Consider how this experience has affected their relationships and current life, incorporating feelings into your poetry.

The Child Within

The beauty of innocence

Digging through the drawers, silently searching,

For what?

I can no longer remember! Some adult thing needed for repairs,

Or for some such thing I hid in a 'safe' place so I wouldn't lose it.

Instead I found a little touch of my childhood innocence.

**

Much to my delight the things that have sidetracked me,

There in front of my eyes are two small round stone like objects.

Marbles - or maybe better known as Doogs.

A favourite childhood game we used to play with tiny glass balls,

Two of those balls now sitting familiarly in the palm of my hand.

**

Oh, the feel of my doogs make my mind wander,

To the excitement and anticipation of entering the ring,

To be the next possible crowned king (or queen in my case),

The opportunity to beat my brother,

In a competitiveness that forever taunted us.

**

I roll the marbles in my fingers,

Listening to the sounds as they clash,

Memories rush through my mind from that simple noise.

The flick of a once young thumb,

Shooting my opponents doogs outside the ring.

**

Air pumping as I shout in glee,

Once more my aim was true,

That feeling of ecstasy as my marble crashes through the inner barrier.

Never once realising the life lessons running through the game,

Lessons I still carry with me to this day.

**

The harshness of a competitive streak,

The anticipation of the challenge invoked,

The joy of the win.

The take no enemies, the foundation of friendship temporarily cast aside,

Keeping one's eye upon the prize.

**

Tiny glass balls of pristine colours of the kaleidoscope,

But the deliciousness of such simplicity.

The warpath that's highlighted by a flick of a tiny thumb,

The fights, the honour, the esteem,

And the beauty of innocence.

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Originally published on Medium