Our Daydream Traditions – a poem

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It must be special – that place you go to,

even though you never really leave the room.

I don’t know what you do when you get there,

or who you’re with when you leave me for awhile.

I suspect you’ve found your own slice of heaven,

for surely, you’d not go if it was hell.

I’ve a mind to lock the door so you can’t leave,

but something tells me just to let you go.

When you return, I never question where you’ve been.

I simply whisper “Welcome back. I missed you”!

“But Dear, you weren’t here either”, you reply.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t lock the door!

My response to today’s one-word prompt: Traditional

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