Wagon-red memories of childhood trundle down ore-rich earthen paths, disappearing in clouds of what was, leaving wisps of dreams and clips of songs to fade on the summer wind.
I could still be that girl in the wagon, lemonade sparkling in sunlight.
"5 minute walks"
food, beauty, happiness.
A sailboat, a couple, and their little dog too.
Where your words matter.
Poems | England | Staffordshire | East Anglia | Northern Ireland | Nearing the end of the marathon that is The Needwood Poems.
you may ask yourself, well, how did i get here
The road to the forum is paved with good intentions.
Mostly unfinished stories primarily produced as a direct result of my association with the OC Writers Guild
A Clairvoyant Journey. One Life. One Quest. Find the Truth.
My Great Aunt Norah's wartime diaries, 1938-1948
fitting somewhere between family and fiction
Confessions of a Grammar Ghoul
Photography
Bittersweet it really is. To be that carefree girl once again … lovely writing
Thank you so much, Ruby!
I agree with Ruby. Very evocative, and I love the imagery. Yummy!
Thank you, too, Susan!
I love how the memories themselves are “wagon-red.” The best memories are summer, aren’t they? The music, the smells. The sparkling lemonade is just brilliant.
🙂
The lemonade is my favorite part, too.
Hi Tienne: This piece has a nice rhythm to it. I can almost hear the sound of the wagon wheels as they turn.
Well, thank you, Mary. What a great compliment!
Beautiful imagery. ♥
Thank you!
clips of songs, wisps of dreams, sunny lemonade, ah. and i love that you used wagon as an adjective. brilliant piece.
Aw, thanks! I started with those first two words and it just rolled (ahem) from there.
The imagery is charming, and it really lingers after you finish reading it. 🙂