Tuesday, May 11, 2010


Red-orange and bright the proud flowers bloom above ground calling my camera and me,
But more than just for today I’m called all the way back to a place in a far memory;
Back when I lived by a beautiful brook where the water flowed by crystal clear
On its path to the sea with a musical song each child should be privileged to hear.
A close look within showed a tadpole or two, tiny tails in developing stages;
A swift scoop of the hand and some were saved to observe; an interest…no matter the ages.
Mamma stood on our porch far away from the brook, calling our ducks who’d gone out of sight,
She feared the foxes in woods and the dangers inherent with the coming on of the night.
Her oft-heard call, “Quacker, where are you?”…the answer immediate, came back…
The ducks were downstream but from far, far away, the response, a loud, “Quack! Quack! Quack!”
As with the ducks, I was called in for the night, away from my wandering ways;
I, too, like the ducks, enjoyed freedoms galore in those long ago childhood days.
Intermittent reminders come to renew the thoughts and memories to me from the past
Re-creating the land of my youth once again helping long ago visions to last.
I see the green of the fields where our daylilies grew alongside the banks adding pleasure;
Although only in memory I go back today, I am thankful for each childhood treasure.

© Marilyn Sue (Libby) Moore 5-11-10

1 comment:

  1. Lovely Marilyn Sue! You have a nice way of lining up words in rhymes and still tell the story exactly as it happened.