From that first jam session, I was
the little girl singing with old dudes
They told me I “brought it”

Caught ‘em by the spiritual heel
Held ‘em with my feeling, healing
No drab days after that debut

Wandering out the back forty
serenading the birds who
sang back like they were answering

Daydreamed through school
Lyrics in mind (not math)
Pondering styles on mental stylus

Teacher would call on me
I’d pulsate from embarrassment
No clue as to question or even subject

Kids laughed and teachers scolded me
about my silly sidetrackedness
But I’d have luxurious revenge

Within two years, the best songs
ingrained in my brain, a tendril of
inspiration connecting song to singer

At the jam, I shocked even my siren mom
when I sang “Embraceable You,”
a pint-sized vixen, meaning every word

Caught glances of awestruck audience
I watched their reserve melt away
Drawn into my world, surreal, transfixed

They left reality behind, escaped the moment
of “I’m guzzling a martini” to float into
a haven of heaven, losing themselves

I was seven years old
when I realized I had the ability
to eat other people’s shadows

© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, the final stanza is the first line of a poem by Hamilton Cork; we were given several lines from which to create a poem. Thank, Izy, for a great prompt. Read all poems and a bio of Hamilton Cork HERE.

Also for ABC Wednesday (C) and Three Word Wednesday (drab, pulsate, tendril).