My Secret Place
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There was a place that I used to go as a young upstart,
Hidden away from the world there in my own backyard.
I let my imagination run loose sitting there in my place,
To get away from turmoil and strife as I ran my young race.
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My Secret Place
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When I was four years old and lived down on Third Street,
Out in the town of Phillips so very innocent and sweet,
I loved to play outside in the yard in the Spring of the year,
When everything was turning green and growing out there.
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Mom had a bush growing near our back porch all around.
With green leaves and nice white flowers hanging down.
Those limbs drooped all the way on down to the ground,
Making a nice round hideaway underneath that I found.
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I had a wooden rocking chair that I placed inside there,
That you could not see from the outside from anywhere.
It was cool and shady in that special secret place of mine,
And when the bush was in bloom, it really smelled so fine.
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Sometimes when I was playing with my sister, JerrylDine,
I would get mad at her and begin thinking she was mean.
Then I slipped away and headed for my own secret place.
So I could sit and drift into my imaginary world with haste.
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I would slip in from behind near the side of the house wall,
And sit in my rocking chair hidden by that bush so tall.
Like a new king on a gold throne beginning his royal reign.
My bush was a gum drop tree with hanging candy canes.
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I would close my eyes and off down the road I would go,
Riding a chocolate bunny until off both his ears do blow,
While running over the big rock candy mountain top,
And jumping over the lemonade spring never to stop.
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A noise close by would bring me back to the real world,
As I rocked in that wooden chair with my mind in a whirl,
I had looked at comic books of a guy called superman,
So when I closed my eyes again, I was flying just like him.
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I flew through the air much faster than a bullet speeding,
And jumped over tall buildings in a single bound while reading.
Sometimes I would fall asleep there in that rocking chair,
Until my Mom called me in yelling out our back door there.
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I probably spend too much time in that place that did jive.
As when I was five, my imagination seemed to come alive.
I could see a lot of things in my room that were not there.
Causing me a lot of problems with things I did really fear.
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I guess it’s good the flowers and leaves fell off of my bush,
In the fall each year so my mind didn’t run loose so much.
My hideout was gone about 6 months ending my fling.
Until the bush leaves and flowers grew back next spring.
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By Bill
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Thanks for reading My Secret Place,
Bill