" How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood" - Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842.
The pediment of blue hills rolling down
to spread surreal splendor on landscape,
where thriving thicket wore emerald crown.
There my childhood morphed into a bird’s shape,
flying with my kites in indigo sky,
skirted silver fringe of fleeting cloud’s drape.
Its sliding shadow on ground I’d descry,
like the lattice of entwined light and shade
made by sunbeam through the trees passing by.
Chasing butterflies in the woods I strayed,
followed the lengthening shadows of trees,
as in the setting sun’s shimmer they swayed.
I felt in young mind these images freeze,
walking away far I lost these for good,
for these flew away in time’s dusty breeze.
In twilight hour I now try if I could
retrieve from dust the collage of childhood.
November 24, 2020
Syllable count : 10 per line
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Rhyme checked on RhymeZone.com
Contest : Terza Rima Form
Sponsor : Constance La France
Categories:
pediment, childhood, image, missing,
Form: Terza Rima