No longer in the backyard of my childhood home
My tree lives on only in my memory.
I would climb into my tree everyday
and sit in its generous crook,
my back leaning against the rough bark of the trunk.
The branches formed a canopy
shadowing the sun
A breeze would rustle the leaves ~
and I would settle in with a book
or just observe the world
whiling away an endless summer afternoon.
I was sad to see one day
when I went to visit the place where my beloved tree once reigned
that it was gone.
the vivid memories remain
of sunlit days sitting in my tree
safe and apart, yet one with the realm ~
I ruled the world from its safe harbour.
Remembered bliss–is there anything better? Do you have a childhood memory of bliss that stands out?