Among trees and sunshine fields,
I played for days
imagining fairy lands within the moss
covered shade of a hillside yard
under the mimosa and apple,
with acorn cups and violet blossoms
using sticks to build tiny
villages camoflauged with leaves
and smooth brown stones to cover
the dark loamy floors.
Coolness and the scent of worm rich
soil filled my senses,
fingers digging deep, Oh the plans
and imagined dances of miniature
winged creatures. 
Innocent hours creating alone
no one interfering with the worlds
I knew, no one controlling time. 
I was the source of enchantment,
my mind could wander to
realms never visited by adults
who couldn’t invision the lives 
I lived among vast worlds.
What good fortune to have such
freedom to craft with my child’s
imagination, given the right to
reign over my quiet lovely universe.
I didn’t know then, how fast
the earth was carrying me toward
responsibility and loss. I couldn’t
be intruded upon by knowledge
of pain or unforeseen longings.
Oh beautiful contentment!
How vibrant and green the
colors of childhood blossomed
as I unknowingly traveled
on fairy wings toward the
infringment of life slipping by.

KW 6/8/23