Let me walk among the trees once again.
Let me recall those days way back when
I was a young girl on my father’s farm,
Safe and secure with no cause for alarm.
There among the stately cottonwood trees,
I fashioned a haven certain to please
The fancy of an active, imaginative girl -
Her head in the clouds, her mind all a-whirl.
Her furniture was the finest in the land
With orange crates and apple boxes so grand,
Covered elegantly with a dish towel or two,
So the crates’ advertising wouldn’t show through.
The cuisine was the most delectable of fare
For every mud pie was crafted with care.
The raisin mud cookies were a sight to behold;
The secret of sheep droppings I have never told.
Amid the tall grass in that shady bower,
Mostly alone I spent many a happy hour,
Daydreaming and enjoying the peaceful quiet
Until my brothers came to threaten a riot.
Twas then I would join them in boyish pleasures.
We’d climb the smaller elms for secret treasures.
We hunted through the branches for the perfect spot
From where we each could whittle out a slingshot.
Let me walk one more time among the trees
That hold for me many precious memories.
Let me be a young girl again in my mind’s eye
And re-live those days that have long gone by.
Marian Aboltin (MeriRiter@aol.com)