When The World Was Young
We climbed to your high pasture
by Sarah L. Johnsen
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.