Is this is iambic pentameter?

Is this poem in iambic pentameter?

I ran, I skipped, I sang, I twirled, I played
I danced, and laughed as bubbles blew around
I played from dawn to dusk, those were the days
Of endless summers, jumping up and down
The morning always opened up the gates
to new and strange ideas around my feet
A stick became a wand, dirt- fairy bait
The scary witch that lived across the street
But quietly this state of mind does fade
The stick is now a stick, the dirt, you see;
The old woman is named Miss. Monavave
As reason takes the place of fantasy
But as for me, I promise not to change
And dare to dream of dreams, however strange.