The following is a poem that Jonathan Winter’s daughter wrote for her dad on his 60th birthday.
I can picture you fifty years ago and more playing alone,
Creating invisible friends, speaking their dialogues, acting each role.
I’m a lot like you.
I played alone with fantasy characters, questioned my vivid imagination,
But you taught me to be proud to be strange.
I can picture you as an old man still with the imagination of a child,
And me, a middle-aged woman mentally and spiritually playing alongside.
Two special friends, two children, an unusual father and his unusual daughter.
