a poem in my pocket

yes, i remember fondly my first hat
white straw with strap on chin and blue ribbon
with lacy gloves on church bench there i sat
clean folded hankie was Easter sermon.

my father had lieutenant’s naval cap
we played with it as kids in neighborhood
whoever wore the hat commanded map
and others followed orders as they should.

now that i’m older, friends go out in style
we dress in purple bling, red hats feathered
when we appear, we usually bring a smile
we laugh and learn to love life well-weathered.

reveal under my hat, mind’s mystery
read thoughts at blog: mad hatter poetry!