Sometimes it is troublesome to admit that I am no longer a small kid running to and from the hillside, stained paint on my overalls, barefoot and climbing with the sun as a lamp over me, getting along with the world and never knowing what numbers were sitting together on a clock. Sometimes the idea of this makes me want to close my eyes and return to the hillside where I could hear the birds singing through my baby eyed view 🌱 Is there a memory you get nostalgic for? Is there an age you remember being that you sometimes wish to return to? A season that reminds you of this? 🌱 Springtime for me. Age 8!
May you always have poetry, flowers for pressing and a good book to read underneath the sun 🍊💫
Turn those hurt feelings, those strange what am I doing's, those do I belong here's into bouquets and poems, painted easels and songs🌻🎨
Medicine for the mind 🌙🌞
Day four of a migraine that doesn't seem to quit so I came here only to post and say this : enjoy your good health and write many poems when you have it 🌙