Real World

You told me once, long ago,

that your dolls' house burnt down.

A slight statement, not much to share,

accompanied by a longing frown.

.

The flames still flicker in your eyes,

I see – every time you turn away.

And you flinch at gold and silver and burgundy

and the memories they portray.

.

You shy away from fairy tales,

keep them firmly on their shelves.

You don't wish to play in a fantasy world

among fairies, pixies and elves.

.

I cannot put it back together

from piles of age old dust,

but if you wait just long enough

I can help to rebuild your trust.

.

I'll starting with trying to build you a house –

not made for dolls this time.

No miniature furniture that can be crushed

in unforgivable crime.

.

I'll use paint and bricks and mortar,

with not an ounce of wood

that can catch the flame unexpectedly,

tear itself down because it could.

.

Take so much time to get it right,

to get the foundations secure and strong.

Turn a world of dream into solid reality –

what it should have been all along.

.

Something real for you to hold

before you drown in that plastic sea.

To raise you up, to let you breathe,

a place for you to just be.

.

When bedtime comes you shall know

that is it safe to go to sleep.

For, when you wake up, it will still be here –

unlike a dolls' house, this you can keep.