The Pipe and the Dreams MAG

November 26, 2012
By Zarat Queen BRONZE, Dhaka, Other
Zarat Queen BRONZE, Dhaka, Other
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I remember when I was just a kid
He used to sit in that armchair
And smoke the gilded, chipped pipe
I used to try and catch the smoke billowing out from it
And he used to blow different shaped
smoke rings to amuse me
In those days I used to dream that when
I'd grow up
I'd finally catch the smoke rings and
show him that I can

I remember when I started elementary school
He used to sit in that armchair
And smoke the gilded, chipped pipe
I used to watch attentively as he filled
the pipe with tobacco
And I smelt the burnt wood and scented smoke
In those days I used to dream that when
I'd grow up
I'd buy him a box of the expensive
scented tobacco with my first earnings
to see him smile.

I remember when I went to high school
He used to sit in that armchair
And smoke the gilded, chipped pipe
I used to sit by him on the misty evenings
as the smoke from the pipe warmed me
He used to tell me how the pipe belonged
to his great-great grandfather
In those days I used to dream that when
I'd grow up
I'd bring my children to him and show them the pipe and make them hear his tales.

Years have passed, time has flown
The pipe remains but the dreams are gone


The author's comments:
Inspired by the phrase 'pipe dream'

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