And often, I find myself looking back
To the Time That Was.
And in the Time That Was, there are always rolling green fields.
And the fields are lush, from fresh rain
And small white sheep dot the pastures.
And in the Time That Was,
There is a little grove, secret from the world.
And in the grove, the mysterious trees
Beckon with a playful spirit to come explore and play.
And once the trees have successfully beckoned,
You are transported to another world.
And in this world, there are adventures to be had, battles to be fought, new stories to be told.
And from the trees, a rope swing
Hangs precariously,
Waiting with relish to swing from tree to tree,
Shouting greetings as it moves back and forth,
Back and forth.
Rope frayed, wood cracked, a sure no-no from the adults.
And it is all pure, innocent, fun.
And now, in the Time That Is,
The grove, the trees, the precarious swing,
Stand quiet and still.
And the world moves on,
And we remember, always,
The Time That Was.
E.D.
Hiiiii so this is something I wrote during class today for a journal assignment, and my teacher really (really really really) liked it, so I finished it and thought I'd post it, because why not. Just a little backstory: the prompt was to write about a special place for me, and so I wrote about this farm I used to go to when I was small. I don't have any actual pictures, but I think the one on the sidebar justifies what I'm trying to say.
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1 AM- A Collection of Poems
Poesia[Random Updates] But why would we sleep anyway, when we have a world to explore and stars to entertain us? Copyright © 2013 by madmoisellebelle. Unless otherwise indicated, all materials on these pages are copyrighted by madmoisellebelle. All right...
