Under May's Emerald Sky
Who remembers? Only me?
An emerald morning, the month of May
We'd spread upon a kitchen table
Paste of flour, fingers nimble, holding
scissors, rainbow crayons
Pretty paper doilies folded, then….
Posies, roses folded in
The memory shrugs so many years away
Where innocence, was cut and shaped
Into bright-sprigged paper cones
Such sweet accomplishments, each our own
Then quickly running out the door
To pick spring beauties, one by one
Fresh Lilly of the Valley, wild wood fern,
Gathered, heavy on their stems
Sweet and fresh as morning dew,
So filled with springtime, filled with bloom
Then paper cones were flower filled
Small bouquets of sweet perfume
Then down the dusty road we trudged
Side by side, with grins of pride
No greater pleasure as a child
The thought of bringing someone smiles
Timid knocking on a neighbor's door
Calling “Surprise...Surprise! Look what’s in store!”
Our little legs would run fast, down the road,
Behind a tree, where 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 Emerald May Day's vibrant skies
For Tracie's Contest: "Flowers or Stones"...."May"
1/17/12
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012
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