My Secret Place

Christine Haese

My Secret Place

My secret place was an old circus wagon

Hidden behind some barns.

It was old and discolored,

The wheels were all gone,

And no one knew where it came from.

The trunk in the corner was filled with wild stories,

Also, some paper and rags.

Some harnesses hung along one bare wall,

They belonged to some fine steeds, I’m sure.

Some days I would find myself way on the top

And drive while the lions roared loudly,

But mostly I’d sit and just dream contently,

I’d guess where my wagon had roamed.

Whenever it rained, I’d sit in one corner

For there it was dry and so cozy.

I’d peek from the cracks

And never would speak

For this was my own silent spot

When the corn fields were planted

They moved my old wagon.

I guess it must travel a lot.

For when it rains hard

And I’ve nowhere to hide

I can still hear the bold circus band.

Christine Haese