When The World Was Young

We climbed to your high pasture
When the world was young one day
Through honeysuckles and sugar maples
That grew in wild display.

We strolled to the mountain laurel.
Golden sun streamed through your hair
While the fragrance of wild flowers
Lingered in the air.

We picked wild strawberries
And dined under a white oak tree
In our sweet day of innocence
Untamed by destiny.

by Sarah L. Johnsen

Comments (1)

I have just got round to your poetry, it is all wonderful but this one stands out, it is just lovely. I know you write your poetry for your daughter, but can you not celebrate her life by writing poems that are of the world that she knew, a talent like yours should belong to the living as well. Please forgive me for speaking to you like this, your work would still be a celebration of her life.