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 When I was only five
Ura May was alive
She looked at me askance
If in her English boots I pranced
Or filched the raisins from the box
And blew bubbles into my milk
When I stood in her closet amid the silk.
I didn’t know she was but a girl herself,
And I sampled her make-up with stealth.
She never raised her voice in anger,
And I wonder now about the rancor,
She so cleverly hid from all who knew
What she had gone through.
I cared nothing about all that,
All I loved was her in that cowboy hat.
She was the princess in my world
Where nothing around me swirled
Except the joy of her presence,
While she was searching for her prince.
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