We weave around trees
and duck under branches
to come to my clearing.
As I look, I remember...
the sun
the laughter
four of us
making magick
purely for joy...
You clamber up
and grin down at me
but I am lost in thought
memories dreams magick
We venture deeper
into the woods
and find a perfect spot
Bare feet on the soft ground
we do not feel the chill
of the late afternoon air
perfection in its simplest form
liberation
freedom
to be entirely who we are
at one with the World.
After standing several strides apart
and screaming
- just to see
who's loudest -
we sit
quietly
beneath the trees
talking about you...
...and counting bumble bees.
Later
we venture back in time
to when nothing mattered
You lie with your head
in my lap
holding the big book
and we laugh
the way I haven't done
for far too long
I take your hand
and in the silence
amidst echoes of our laughter
I smile.
Author notes
An afternoon that took us back in time and transported us to a place where no one cared what we did. Magickal. We felt real again.
What did you think?
Comments
-
this one of course!
-
"perfection in its simplest form" indeed.
This is really lovely.
I like the layout of the words.
Even the title itself creates a scene of simplicity and beauty.
The story itself is delicate and achingly perfect.
Little touches added to the picture and the history
and the reality of it
"my clearing"
"You clamber up
and grin down at me
but I am lost in thought"
"talking about you"
The whole picture describes intensely a sweet time, an important time that you will never lose from your memory.
and imbued with smiles, laughter and amazing friendship.
Adding your comment:
