The Maypole

I remember it well. The feeling was swell. It happened once a year; An event most precious and dear. The fragrance was in the air. It was still mid-Spring, but from the sky, There protruded the aroma of summer. I hasten to say, it was a beautiful first of May. And presently, I pause with warm affections, to reflect, To muse upon the emotions that were like no other day. To us, May Day was like a holiday encased in amusements. It was time to plait the Maypole. With coordination and precision, we flowed With the rhythm of the music as we danced and skipped Around the pole, plaiting eye-catching bright and bold colors. They were rainbow colors, filled with life, like those in our hearts. Oh, what lovely and memorable visions of childhood, so real and vivid. No selfies or videos, but the pictures are forever painted in our souls. It's true that life took us away, far from the shores of childhood festivities. In our career years, we are encumbered with futuristic aspirations, but as the locomotive of life slows, our minds swing back to the Maypoles of yesterday. 050422PS