"My Blanket"

"MY BLANKET"
by Patricia Ramsauer

Wrapped in my blanket, mad at my brother,
because he kicked my doll.
I am here like in a little oven,
pacing my mood as it comes and goes.

I personally think
that the world is a piffle,
nothing is permanent,
I am proud of nothing.

Here in my pajamas,
I am in my quarters.
Nobody in, nobody out,
no question, I am the best.

I am on my little island,
in my inventing room,
here, I make everything new,
and everything else drifts away.

My jacket is jealous of my blanket,
it is my castle and my home,
a little itchy sometimes but cozy,
I am invisible inside my blanket.

I don't peek-a-boo, I peek all from here,
no guilt puzzles me, I gulp what I am.
I guzzle every thought, every feeling,
I can be grumpy here, no one cares.

Graceful lines hold my head and my chin,
my eyes closed, my nose snuffed,
tucked by my angel, it keeps me soft and warm
my blanket is all I have when I am sad.

This is the game I play when I fly in my dreams,
I build a castle of flowers for my fascination,
fairies and butterflies flutter around me,
never bored, never dull.

That's my world inside the blanket,
with a little light and my book,
my zany jungle of thoughts,
they come and go, they are my life.

My brother is the king in his world,
if he kicks my doll or wrecks my books.
That makes me jumpsy, but
he's my marshmallow at the end.

The meadows of my blanket,
hills and valleys, soft as clouds,
marbles roll up and down,
on mountains skiing after dawn.

Memories find me in the middle of my thoughts,
I pin each of them in the map of my existence,
in the planet where I live,
in the playground of questions and puzzles.

I am the queen, in my blanket-palace,
my guards are rabbits,
slow to anger, quick to jump,
from slope to slope in my whoppsy blanket.

Tall as skyscrapers sometimes,
smells like pie some other times,
smashed by my brother some days,
but he is a snapperwhipper as I said.

My little snowflake, he snarls at me,
then I snuggle and forget,
then he sneaks inside my blanket,
and we share a piece of apple pie.

He brings his own blanket,
we both sneeze at once,
then he snorts with a loud noise,
and sings a song of his own.

My blanket with her squiggly face,
always squishes me in a big hug.
I play statue, she is the squirrel,
then my mind flies away and finally,
I fall asleep.