Still to Show an Afterglow

Through the meadow swift.
With picked twigs and fresh selected sticks...
We run.
Having fun,
Under moss green sunlit trees.
Young!
And full of 'come-and-get-me' glee.
We played in times lasting forever then.
Back when her tresses flowed...
As we played hide 'n seek,
With agreeing youth peaking.
Feeling the magic,
Of a blooming Spring season...
Free as breezes.
Teasing to go!
To leave us sparkling,
As blossoms bright...
Still to show an afterglow.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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