O'er the field the lay
Planted by magic
No matter the time there they stay
Some would say their life is tragic
As a child I'd frolic in their patch
They shared wisdom of all they'd seen
The older I become
The more deaf I am to their wisdom
The wildflowers--
mysterious and wise
Oh, how I long to be infantile once more
To hear the whispers and feel a power
Old as I am now I realize that was yore
Oh, I long to hear the secrets among the wildflowers
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 3:10 PM UTC
O'er the field the lay
Planted by magic
No matter the time there they stay
Some would say their life is tragic
As a child I'd frolic in their patch
They shared wisdom of all they'd seen
The older I become
The more deaf I am to their wisdom
The wildflowers--
mysterious and wise
Oh, how I long to be infantile once more
To hear the whispers and feel a power
Old as I am now I realize that was yore
Oh, I long to hear the secrets among the wildflowers
yore- (n.) of long ago or former times
