Wet grass blades cutting between
the toes as you walked bare foot after the rain.
Lightening splitting the tall trees
in the forrest. Thunder brings you
nearer.
The scent of tilled dirt from the field. It's time to plant the crop
all around the house: Sweet potatoes,
corn, white potatoes, wheat, watermelons, beans of all kind,
peanuts.
Ahh...persimmon trees, scuppernongs, black berries, plum trees: even the china berry tree had her place.
Dancing under the moon light, catching fireflies, frogs, crickets and garden
snakes.
Here we go 'round the mulberry tree', hide and seek, swinging between the pine trees and skin the cat.
Cooking sweet potatoes, corn
and flapjacks in the hearth.
The magnolia with huge flowers
reaching for the sky. The dogwood
tree says, "my fullest bloom is the true Ressurection Sunday".
Louisa, the visuals in this poem are so beautiful...it's as though I stepped into your world, remembering what you remember...a lovely journey. Thank you. Michelle
I have written a chapter called I Am That, I Am in this inspirational compilation book by best-selling authors and wonderful people from all walks of life xox :-D (Its sister book is called Adventures In Manifesting - Success and Spirituality)
Regis