I had almost forgotten
my favorite springtime toy
‘til I returned to the clime
of my childhood days.
Standing tall and majestic,
the maple produces a magical
winged seed, spiraling down
when blown by soft winds.
Oh, the delight to watch these
with a twist and a turn,
such gracefulness to a child’s eye,
they silently descend to the ground.
What constancy to behold:
natures choreographed ballet.
The winged seed of the maple,
a remembrance of a simpler life of play.
© Jackie (Micke) Jinks, May 2004
Regis
Safi
A wonderful walk down memory lane - loved this excellent write!!
Blessings,
Robert
a gem in this memoir! Brava!
(Brought tears to my eyes)
etw-alrisha