We sat up high, we mighty kings
Gnarled branches our throne
Our sun kissed skin muddy
with tales of treasure to be found
and wild lands to be discovered.
We three, with grit grazed knees
and sweet strawberry breath,
hiding from the home-time calls of
clucking mothers with spit-wet handkerchiefs
our hand muffled giggles rising to the faded sky
in appreciation of a perfect day.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
We sat up high, we mighty kings
Gnarled branches our throne
Our sun kissed skin muddy
with tales of treasure to be found
and wild lands to be discovered.
We three, with grit grazed knees
and sweet strawberry breath,
hiding from the home-time calls of
clucking mothers with spit-wet handkerchiefs
our hand muffled giggles rising to the faded sky
in appreciation of a perfect day.
Request permission to use this poem