I wish, I wish, I wish

I wish, I wish, I wish,

the star, the flying horse, the dancing diamond,

had not shrunk to a simple pinprick of light,

the rainbow dreams grown monochrome,

a mist of rain against black cliffs.

I wish the children had not grown to people

with no need of a hand to hold,

distant as a special field beneath a lark-filled sky,

elusive as rain on black cliffs.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

28 thoughts on “I wish, I wish, I wish”

      1. What I find sad is that they don’t always remember things the same way we do. What looked like unadulterated good times were sometimes, for one or other of them, spoiled by some childish worry that they never expressed.

      2. I have one daughter who has such a fantasy approach to memories, I look around at the others and see the jaws drop. There’s usually a consensus that she has got it all completely wrong.

      3. It’s frightening in a way. Like asking what is real, what is the truth. If everyone has a different version, you’re right, we have lost our grip on our memories.

      4. I once read something about “the Mandela Effect”. If you look that up on the internet there are lots of articles about it. No real explanation but lots of theories as to why we remember different versions of events. Makes one ponder…. At least no one is alone in experiencing it.

      5. I’ll look it up. I know my mother and her sister have diametrically opposed memories of a particular incident with their father. One memory is flattering, the other is just the opposite.

      6. My older son and I were just talking about this. He’s also very familiar with the phenomena. He and I both have really good memories yet sometimes we have different versions of the same event too.

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