Woodland of My Youth
Along the edge of a forgotten woodland
There slithers a wave of auroral tint,
As daybreak burnishes its crimson strand
Glistening a pool of lilies an imprint:
Fertile the clay where shore rises gently--
That I reflect on youth’s laughter, aglow
The silver-blue waters ebb contently ;
While fields of thistle in new harvest blow.
Despite June’s tempest, I relish life’s grace
My eyes marking the stencil of ripped trees
A yesterday which draws me to embrace ;
The comfort of kin amidst storm’s reprise.
And rambling up the woodpath I still love
The misty tides speak of childhood tunes--
Like hums dulcet from a skyscape above
Inviting me home, night sparkling old moons.
Resubmitted 4/30/2018
Contest of Laura Loo: Any Rhyming Poem In April
Form: Quatrain
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2018
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