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