There is a small,pearl covered box that rests on a shelf in my heart.It is there to be opened when I want,but there is a price.It has black and white pictures of innocence........
Of days of sun,play and closeness.
Quiet mornings reading in the deep green shade.
Solid sentinel maples lit from below by a streetlamp.
On a breeze from the South,heavy salt air.
White strong legs finally free.May.
Lilac air;sweet purple,glorious.
Hide and go seek,in the tender,black night.
It is here that we were formed,socially inept,witty and good,yes,good.It is all there in my heart as a gracious gift but with the opening, comes longing.
4 comments:
Sharon,
This is beautiful...
Ry
Thank you,Ry.This just came like one of yours.Your writing encouraged me to do this free form kind of thing;the beauty of the internet and other talented bloggers.God bless.....
I have so many great memories of growing up. This reminded me of them. The summers especially-tender feet finally let out of their shoes that had to toughen up now that they could be bare, lightning bugs-just being outside and having no schedule or responsibilities. What fun!
Missy,So glad that this spoke to you.I recall lightening bugs and freedom.It is refreshing to sometimes just remember...
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