We lay in an ocean of purple
Gazing at cloud-ships sailing by
Then watched as the red sun slipped away
To dawn in a distant sky
We talked or simply listened
To the cricket symphony
As twilight washed in around us
In coral tranquility
We strolled along wind-tossed fences
And talked about life and such
She told me she wishes she could see
Beneath our foot-step’s touch
‘if the dirt would be clear, she pondered
As clear as a sheet of glass
We would see what we now only wonder
Of what is hidden beneath the grass…
And we could see all these crickets
Where they burrow to go to sleep
The worms, the bugs and beetles
Living in soil retreats…
…and we chattered about little nothings
Though they were not really ‘nothings’ at all
As she asked me what I liked when I was a kid
So I do my best to recall…
And I realize my memories
Are warmed by the wonderful touch
Of seemingly everyday moments
When we were doing ‘nothing much’
Because my dear mother knew the importance
Of Time; how it runs free and wild
But never a minute has been wasted
When it is spent with a child
© Janet Martin
A little re-cap of last evening:)
