Twelve, Going On Twenty-One
I was twelve, and going on twenty-one,
as the days limped languidly into my forever.
I walked without care amidst these rolling Carolina hills, and its hot July sun.
Ripe sweet peaches clung precariously everywhere beneath small spindly limbs.
And I trekked with ease through the orchard, and up past the old farms decrepit house.
Up and over the pasture gate went I, and onto the river for a summers secret swim.
Times were so simple then…you know…care free days…hot summers sun.
Oh so very simple when you were only twelve, and going on twenty-one.
I remember so well as I would walk with extra care through the large north pasture.
I would watch each little step as to avoid the cow pies that dotted this lush green field.
Field larks would rise ahead of me like frightened puffs of smoke from the tall grass
And the memories of this time were soundly forged to my mind for ages to last.
With each magic acre walked another daydream would be wrought.
For in this day, I was a soldier, scientist, astronaut and king,
I was anything I wanted to be in this summer of dreams.
After all….I was twelve…going on twenty-one.
J. Allen Wilson © SEVEN 2006