Peeks in the window of her very own house.
The dolls, waiting at attention.
Silken eyelashes and glassy bright eyes.
Silent, yet real.
The tea set, at the ready.
Receiving visitors, you graciously pour.
Cookies from mommy’s oven.
All shapes of yummy to share.
Images on a TV screen.
The grainy memories of happier days.
Little girl in white.
Veiled, white gloves and posing in prayer.
The solemn moment passes.
Then laughing, with delight.
More real than ever.
Looking into your eyes.
What do I see?
My soul, my essence, always there.
Innocence and dreams lost.
Yet you will remain.
Waiting to surface.
To be released.
Little girl to woman.
In the dollhouse of my dreams.
‘The Dollhouse’ -poem: Geraldine H. Hartman ©2008
Dollhouse photo courtesy of: Flickr
PS: Submitted to Writer’s Island as part of this week’s word prompt invitation. This week’s word: Deja vu.