Between the earache,
and the throat ache,
and the headache
of this tonsillitis day
I remember, once again,
My old Remington standard office typewriter,
bought for my last $50,
with a pic of Conan the Barbarian
He of a lovely big sword and broad muscle
taped to its case.
There was one bright tonsillitis day
when wrapped in fiction writer's dreams
I created a whole world.
Those were the days
when I had great fun dreaming.
Thirty five years
separate me from that girl
who dreamed of big swords and adventure,
eldritch and wild,
of wizards and Faerie and mystical lore
and although I stand weary and wiser,
and know more names for more things,
and have long since done away with manual typewriters,
I still dream of heroes
with big swords and high adventure,
and I find
that in all the important ways, deep in my heart,
I have not changed that much at all.