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