Tick-tock

Tick

       Tock

                Tick

                        Tock

Her tired head lay rested in her delicate hands

as she whispers a melancholy "happy birthday" into 

the clear, black sky.

Wendy Darling turned thirty-eight today.

And once again she searches the night sky,

stares intently at that second star

and reminisces

and clings to the memories she cannot let herself forget.

She never should have left.

Tick

       Tock

                Tick

                        Tock

Wendy Darling was watching the years pass,

far too quickly, she might say.

She couldn't stand it.

The memories of a land never to be found again broke her heart.

Mrs. Darling dedicated her life to staying Ms. Darling.

Wrinkle creams, moisturizers, miracle products 

promising youth flooded her medicine cabinet,

and the tv remained on QVC, just in case another product promised better results.

Tick

       Tock

                Tick

                        Tock

Her husband was a supportive man, but he worried for his wife

everytime he bought the kids' sandwich supplies

and gogurt for his troubled spouse,

or everytime he tucked her in and moved her torn up teddy bear from the bed to the nightstand.

Her kids loved play time,

but sometimes mommy got a little too serious during hide n seek

and they argued like siblings.

Yet it held with it a certiain charm per se.

It is true, she had the spirit of a lost boy,

and maybe that island was where she belonged,

but she was loved. She was breathtaking.

She was graceful and gracious and grown.

Whether she liked it or not.

Tick tock