I would
I could stay
in those days
of skinned knees,
firefly-lit trees,
and the cool stretch
of evenings
the moon tipped all
her sweetness into
and in the far fields
chase the years
yet to come
up the grass-wrapped rise
where the stars
that held my eyes
touch and hold still
that spray of youth
when green, green
spread unending
and the honeysuckle hung
beneath the sour apple tree,
bare feet dangling
down below the boughs
without a care
for things like thistles,
or neighbors, or propriety
dear me,
I would
I could stay
in those days
where we played
evenings along the creek
so cold it crushed
the breath from our
fledgling frames,
thin as new foals
but spry as goats,
we plucked berries
as fresh as you can get
and as wild as the orphans
our mother called us
then grass was meant
for rolling down
and words like winter
and worry
were still
so very far away
I would
I could stay
© Sarah Whiteley
Oh…I believe Peter Pan had it right…about growing up and what you have to give up to do so….a fine poem IMHO
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Oh yes – Peter had the right idea. (Maybe that’s why I never really cared for staid, prosaic little Wendy.)
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This is now my current favourite poem of yours. Lovely.
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Awww,… thanks Val! I had such a wonderful moment of reminiscence the other evening and I just had to capture it… I loved being the wild child running free with my brothers through the woods. I was so blessed to have that as part of my growing up. It’s hard not to want to go back every now and then. 🙂
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in those days
of skinned knees,
firefly-lit trees,
and the cool stretch
of evenings
the moon tipped all
her sweetness into
and in the far fields
chase the years
yet to come
Sarah, you manged to fly higher even from that high cloud I know you are normally standing on.
Beautiful. The sentiment and longing felt through,
I am with Val on that one.
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