Below is a little poem I wrote about my favorite place, my magic place. Thank you for reading, and have a magical day.
Magic is Floridian humidity
that melts the features of my face.
It’s the sun that burns my shoulders
and it’s the post rope-drop race.
It’s a metal mouse and a metal man
standing firmly side by side
captured forever in family photos,
those moments will never die.
Magic’s down at the laughin’ place
where briar patches become home.
Where nine ninety-nine happy haunts ask
one more soul to cease to roam.
Waffles become magic when they’re
blessed with eyes, a nose, and ears.
A moment becomes magic when a tiny tot
overcomes her incredible fears.
She hugs her hero, her idol, her friend,
A fleeting second, captured by tech.
She bounces, she giggles, and squeals
she bids farewell with a delicate peck.
Mickey Mouse holds his heart and swoons
she’s met her hero, he’s met his.
These moments, this place, this world
are “my friends, where the magic lives!”
This place is my magic place,
I’m just like those teeny tots.
Here I never grow up, I dare to wear
mouse ears and red polka dots.
I laugh without fear of notice,
I don’t hide behind a stoic mask.
Fastpasses, photo ops, and the purple wall
are today’s only required tasks.
Here I twirl on lush “hub grass”
and strike a classic princess pose.
I open up to people who “get it.”
They feel the magic. They just…know.
Here “anything is possible,”
and “wishes do come true.”
It’s where I learned that true magic lies
within me…and also in you.
We take our magic place with us,
to the real world, to reality.
In memories of that magic kingdom
I find myself.
I find me.