The Creek
I long to hear the wandering creek
its gentle song as it bubbled past land.
in its whispers, we could hear it speak
words only children can understand
gentle music we now often seek.
Beside the creek, a magic meadow
grass was so high it reached to our knees.
We ran and laughed hiding from shadows
midst four o'clocks and lost apple trees,
and the creek's soft, iridescent glow.
Like the creek, reaching end of its run,
Childhood vanished overnight, it seems
Could it be but a fairytale spun
when we ran happily chasing dreams
So long ago, when daydreams were young
October 25, 2022
Edited October 17, 2024
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