May Surprise
Who remembers, is it only me?
Flour paste, scissors and pretty colored paper
Assembled upon the table, the early morn in May
This memory shrugs so many years away
Our innocence, cut and shaped
Into bright-sprigged paper cones
Such sweet accomplishments, each our own
Then quickly running out the door
To pick spring beauties, violets galore
Or lady slippers, wildwood fern, we gathered them
Sweet Williams, heavy on their stems
And fresh as morning dew, filled with bloom
The paper cones were flower filled
And paper handles dried, smells of sweet perfume
Then down the dusty road we trudged
Arms loaded side by side
No greater pleasure as a child
The thought of bringing someone smiles
Then knocking on each neighbor's door
And calling "May basket...Surprise!"
Our little legs then running quickly, down the road,
Behind a tree, we would hide
And watch them find this flower prize
Must not....get caught.....must not get caught!
And we were taught
That bringing light to someone's eyes
Was worth a lot !!
Under May Day's vibrant skies
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