Heydays.
Springs ago froth on the Hawthorn
seemed the whiter,
house-high were waving cornstalks
and every morning the sun
warmed my heydays of running free
in crystal-clear ether
back then..........
summers of green turning to order
sang ease to my wandering
heedless when increasing autumn
brought apple-tree bulge
of ripening fruit which tickled taste
buds of youthful impatience.
Sabbath-still quiet sang back then
while trailing daisy-dreams
I filled days with girlish adventure
but passing moons age
small lasses for as shape matures
nightgowns no longer hang loose.
Innocence cycled to heart\'s content
unafraid and resilient,
security-fed I pedaled solo for miles
as stability burgeoned and thrived
back then.........