a poem in my pocket

sometimes my grand daughters
dress up as princesses and live
together in make-believe castle
(partitioned basement toy room)

wearing single toy crown, one of
them acts as the queen and she
invariably invites me to come for
a visit with royals at their palace

when addressing the queen, one
must be respectful but i get into
trouble by casually referring to her
little highness as “Queenie Poo”

they predictably haul me off
to the jailer’s dungeon where
they mercifully bring me books
and copious meals of fake food

eventually, i am released but
regretfully have not yet learned
my lesson and the story repeats
to the general delight of all parties

____________

I’ve written a few poems about my grandmothers (“I Remember Them”) and grandchildren but here’s a new story poem for dVerse.