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The Golden Days
January 26, 2015
There would be days when
I would run out to my trampoline
Still covered and smothered
in honeysuckles from the day before
Mr. Gunthener's bush
Still golden with a plethora more.
You would think that after a while,
you'd notice how bare it had become
from plucking flower after flower
Hundreds of honey drops
Soaking onto our tongues
Now the honey isn't so sweet
The drops are small
The flowers frail
But that's what growing up does
And maybe the children still taste the sugar
But the older kids are finding
Their own plethora of gold
© Michelle B., Blairsville, GA
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