time spent, not wasted,
out of doors tasted
some experiences priceless,
are better
away from anything wireless
on any sunny day,
a light breeze plays,
with the leaves,
all for one and one for all
it is a free-for-fall until ... you
take a wee one for a walk
in the woods, on a path,
over a bridge and along
a stream.
What a dreamy day it was,
the crunch of leaves under-
foot, the oooohs and aaaaahs,
and various descriptors,
in a language I long forgot,
that of a fifteen month old
pink coated naturalist,
who points with fingers
or her fist,
who squats down to
study the million leaves
in reach, looking for the
one that needs the most help
or a kiss to feel better,
God, You sure make beautiful
weather and a passing grade on granddaughters!
(said with tongue and cheek as she can touch more leaves
than I can take away....)
Up hill and down, by the creek and away,
up by the hairy animals that make her say,
woof-woof in mockery as they guard
the yard
with the chain ink fence
then finally we turn for home
where every pole and tree within
in reach has to be touched like
it has the magical powers of a garden gnome
(let me guess, you have never heard that before)
the wind and rush of traffic at our
back as we spent the walk, not wasting
any time, for she will never be
this
young again. Nor will I.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
time spent, not wasted,
out of doors tasted
some experiences priceless,
are better
away from anything wireless
on any sunny day,
a light breeze plays,
with the leaves,
all for one and one for all
it is a free-for-fall until ... you
take a wee one for a walk
in the woods, on a path,
over a bridge and along
a stream.
What a dreamy day it was,
the crunch of leaves under-
foot, the oooohs and aaaaahs,
and various descriptors,
in a language I long forgot,
that of a fifteen month old
pink coated naturalist,
who points with fingers
or her fist,
who squats down to
study the million leaves
in reach, looking for the
one that needs the most help
or a kiss to feel better,
God, You sure make beautiful
weather and a passing grade on granddaughters!
(said with tongue and cheek as she can touch more leaves
than I can take away....)
Up hill and down, by the creek and away,
up by the hairy animals that make her say,
woof-woof in mockery as they guard
the yard
with the chain ink fence
then finally we turn for home
where every pole and tree within
in reach has to be touched like
it has the magical powers of a garden gnome
(let me guess, you have never heard that before)
the wind and rush of traffic at our
back as we spent the walk, not wasting
any time, for she will never be
this
young again. Nor will I.
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