My Dolly

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  • Childhood

    My Dolly


    MY DOLLY
    (J.J.Conte 12/30/2001)

    My dolly is pretty, in a fun sort of way,
    She cuddles with me, each night and each day.

    Dolly doesn’t have any real hair to comb,
    Just bumpy old curls made of rubbery foam.

    So I clean her and dress her, and love her a lot,
    But must leave her each school day, alone on my cot.

    My Dolly and me, we talk and have fun,
    We rest when it rains, and play in the sun.

    Her skin is so smooth, and soft to the touch,
    She is my best friend, and I love her so much.

    I wonder what she does, when I am away all day,
    Lying there on my cot, does she miss how we play?

    I leave her in the morning, awake on my cot,
    And when I come home, she is in the same spot.

    Each night I ask Dolly, “Did you play and have fun?”
    And Dolly keeps smiling, and we laugh as we run.

    We run through the house, with Auggie dog and my brother,
    Our screaming and yelling, upsets our dear mother.

    Today is my birthday, and Dolly’s with me,
    She’s wearing a silk dress, that touches her knee.

    Her shoes are bright white, and her hat is white too,
    And the sun bounces off them, as if they were new.

    We are dancing together, and having great fun,
    Out on our deck, we are jumping in the sun.

    My Mommy and Daddy, are making us giggle,
    Because Mommy is dancing, and making herself wiggle.

    Daddy is eating, big scoops of ice cream,
    It’s dripping on his shirt, and making him scream.

    My brother is yelling, for Mee Maw to look,
    He wants Birthday cake, and to see my new book,
    Pee Paw is watching, and yelling to Dolly,
    To cover her ears, and to suck on a lolly.

    Oh! Oh! Dolly, you’re a sweet thing,
    I wish you could talk, and wish you could sing.

    Let’s sit and eat cake, and enjoy a juice drink,
    And when we are finished, we’ll go to the sink.

    Your face is like mine, all gooey and slick,
    Auggie’s just watching, to give us a lick.

    The party has ended, and our guests have gone home,
    It’s bedtime for us, and the end of this poem.






















































































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    castlemist commented on My Dolly

    09-13-2009

    I have three daughters and really like this one. Nice work!

    josephconte

    09/13/2009

    Thank you sir for very welcome comment.

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    josephconte’s Poems (7)

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    My Dolly 3
    My Magic Dream Machine 4