Recollections.
Summers of larks bred sun-torn
yearly pleasure all round my colourful home
and scented dialect of childhood
still sings recollections of well-trodden roaming.
In home's steep haven of meadows
sheaves leaned roasting amid searing hot fields
as hosts of moss roses fed nectar
to playtime that still ghosts my wistful dreaming.
Autumn-red juiced my girlhood
and it etched its vermilion into each adventure
yet where could young fervour
find innocent entrance again into real treasure?
Summers ago beautiful wealth
enriched and adorned my cherished memories.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2019 03:54
- Comment from author about the poem: Reviewing the picture woke my Muse - hope you enjoy the read.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments6
Beautiful. All those lovely things we took for granted as children are now rosey memories to be savoured whilst they still shine in the corner of our minds eye.
Lovely pic too.
Eloquent recollections Fay.
what recall, what a gift ...innocence & beauty personified, in word .... N
Captures the innocence of childhood which also applies (in my case at least) to little lads as well. I used to love roaming in virgin countryside with my Dad who would point out the different wild flowers and birds - magical times.
Thanks FAY : Love the picture : childhood soon disappears especially for GIRLS ! Love the Poem : Memories sure are made of this !
Scented dialect of childhod
Playtime that still ghosts my dreaming
Autumn -red juices of childhood
Summers ago beutiful wealth : cherished memories
Thanks for caring : Love ANGELA 🧡🧡🧡🧡
Those times of innocence where dreams are made.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.