by: Guildford Windley
Oh summer day of yesteryear
In my youth, I did play in the forest and the hill
In the bright sun, I ran on trails chasing little critters that I could not catch, when I was young
Those days of swimming in that old swimming hole, just below the waterfall
A creek that runs deep through the forest green and granite rocks that gleam of sparkles in the sun
The cold mountain water so clean and pure runs over and between the rock and dead wood that lie within the stream on its way to the sea
I remember still in my dreams, those days as summer turned to fall, the trees that had been green now show their leaves of orange and from the trees, they were shed, to cover the barren ground
Oh what fun we had as leaves were raked into a pile, only to serve as a cushion as we drive upon the heap
Up in the air, they would fly, the orange leaves of September
Now in the winter of my life, I yearn to once more to find myself back in the days where life was all so easy— to run, to swim, to play throughout the day on a hill of wildflowers or in the darkness of the forest.
Oh yes I must not forget the fun of making angel wings while lying in a pile of good old orange leaves
As the cool September winds brought a close to my youth!
Guildford H Windley
March 10, 2020