I Dreamed of Ogre
When I was a kid,
I used to wonder what it would be like to be an ogre.
I’d live in a cave somewhere,
Probably far away,
Because my town didn’t have any caves
And my bedroom would be too small.
My cave would be nice, though.
Roomy. No spiders. No neighbors to yell at me.
My family could visit me every day
We go to church on Sunday
Except I wouldn’t be able to.
An ogre wouldn’t fit in Sunday School
I’d be big, for sure.
Eight feet tall with big wide shoulders
And hands like Christmas hams
And horns on my head.
Silver white and gnarly.
They’d make it tough for me to wear a hat
But you can’t have everything.
I’d miss hats.
But I’d be able to smash bricks.
That seemed like a good trade.
I’d have a mighty club, too.
Not a tawdry, ragged tree branch.
We didn’t have any really big trees anyhow.
And a proper ogre wouldn’t swing a baseball bat.
Unless he was on the team.
But they wouldn’t let me play, I’m sure.
They never wanted me on their team.
Being an ogre wouldn’t change their minds.
They’d say I was too slow
Even though I’d hit only homers.
Anyhow, that was a dream I had.
A dream of being an ogre
With gnarly horns and a mighty club.
No hat, of course, but like I said
You can’t have everything.
I grew up and got big.
Not tall, really. But big.
Too much snacking. Too much sitting.
Night work and shift work and not caring
About myself very much.
I forgot about being an ogre for a while
But sometimes now I remember.
It took a while. Maybe too long.
But there are times I close my eyes
And when I open them
I’m a mighty ogre with horns and a club
And I even figured out how to wear a hat.
I mean, grrrrrr.
I used to dream a lot about things when I was a kid. I stopped for a while, but I got back to it.
I think the dreams I dream now are even better. Sometimes they’re different, but not often. I still want to be a Colonial Warrior, launching off the Galactica to save humanity from the Cylon menace. At least in that dream I get to wear a hat.
(Photo Credit: enriquelopezgarre on Pixabay)