Thread: Violets by the Riverbank

In the spring
we would pick clover
and violets by the river bank.
Dragonflies fluttered
over the shallows,
flitting from log to log.

That morning,
we ate strawberries
sticky with juice;
watched horses
galloping in the clouds,
just ahead of a thunderstorm.

In the rain,
after the clouds had burst,
I walked back up the path.
I was very careful
to step in every puddle
on the way home.

Ilasir, just a beautiful poem celebrating nauture and your connection with it, warming my heart. And such powerful imagery! e.g.

A sight I wish I could behold.

watched horses
galloping in the clouds,
just ahead of a thunderstorm

A great smile! You turn the expected into the unexpected! "careful to step in every puddle" Relishing in nature!

In the rain,
after the clouds had burst,
I walked back up the path.
I was very careful
to step in every puddle
on the way home.

One of the most beautiful reads. Laurie

Thanks for the comments, Laurie. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

My pleasure!

What a beautiful feeling this invoked! Great imagery here, too.

:bump:

How sweet and childlike and innocent. It filled my heart. It reminds me of my expeditions when I was a little girl. Always barefoot and looking at clouds. For me, beautiful and nostalgic. How old is your soul, Ilasir?

my best, apple

So tell me, my dear Ilasir, will it be you or I to tell them it's not nearly as innocent as it seems? I still love this piece.

WHAT!!! Was I tricked? Innocence... or loss of innocence. Hmm. logs, eating sticky fruit, horses, thunder, cloud bursts, puddles..... You are nasty, Ilasir.... But still, even that nostalgia captures me.

According to the discussion on Ambiance, someone died, but Ilasir is not telling. Lisa picked up on it, but even she couldn't get him to spill the beans. He's a tricky one, that Ilasir.