Emile Pinet Poet Rhyme

Shinnying Up Trees

I loved the woods as a young boy:
Nature was a true source of joy.
And She taught me things I didn't know:
many innocent years ago.

I loved how the woods would transform:
blanketed by a Winter storm.
And I'd build forts in drifts of snow,
many innocent years ago.

Shinnying up trees, scraped my knees:
yet I would climb the thinnest trees.
And feel them sway when winds would blow,
many innocent years ago.

There was just so much to behold:
I didn't think about growing old.
Time sped up, but it once ran slow,
many innocent years ago.

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John Lawless November 19, 2023 at 6:43 AM "shimmying"....Emile, I doubt anyone under 60 knows what that means or how much effort is required to master the art. Emile Pinet November 19, 2023 at 2:37 PM Thanks, John, you are probably right, it reflects on a bygone era my friend, Emile.