The Agora Times

We walked beside the giver’s trees

My arms not bundled full

The sunflowers that were waiting for me

Yellow petals shooting up and jumping when time came for my call

 

Jobs ending, and the wind was flowing through the green meadows

A few miles to travel that far, horses galloping in the distance

My blue pants were not stained with any grass and dirt, but of soot

The smell of the unground work, that sprinted to the sun

 

Mother nature wafting the yellow curtain over the sky

Pink hues to simmer like warm tingly sweet soup

That I once had when I was young

That led me to watch the moon and discuss why he never showed on his weekends

 

They let me pick them from the Earth, love inside their brown and black seeds

And carry them up through the hills, no such thing as the lonely woods

Rabbits clapped their tiny claws, and laid beside the clover piles

Who sat tall and whispered hello to my sunflowers

 

We passed by the tucked under orange blanket hay piles

And passed the old gent’s garden of peppers

Over water troughs, the water tickled

But all my flowers did was smile and wave

 

As we walked through and from, past the goats and sheep that bawd

Chickens jogging to their eggs, tucking and laying a pillow to them

They turned their heads upon me, and let me go my way

The flowers never drooped, but perked up each time that I turned

 

Some snoozing in my arms, green smooth stems upon my elbow

Some dancing with the rays the sun dazzled to them

Bestowing a ball of light and gust of wind to make us feel warm

Like everything she could give, her children walking far from their newly discovered homes

 

Their strong green leaves pushing up, and wooing Mother nature on

As we climbed past the wooden fencing, the white streaked door stood big and tall

Little raindrops to cower and swirl from painted rain clouds

A fresh breeze to breath, felt like standing by my place by the rivers when I was a teen

 

The warm air grasped my hair, the red locks being combed

The flowers nodded their heads, when I made way

A wicker basket sat beside the white buttered door

And off I set them gently, so sad to say goodbye

 

They only peeked upon me, a bit of a surprise

Leaving my smoky, freckled arms

And silently swayed to say good day, a small smile upon the petals

And returned to a spring’s nap again

 

And as I walked back to the city,

The rain showered upon me and scrubbed me down

Mother nature standing by the door, snapping her fingers to do just so

Some petals jumped on all points, and flew in the wind in circles

 

Squinting an eye upon the rain drops, 

Being poured heavy like a bucket down a drain

The petals stuck to my face, and the basket stirred like a cradle

The sunflowers gazed at me, and waved their tiny leaves

 

Sticking their tongues out at me, like a funny childlike game

And enjoying the bath of rain, I was out for till the sun went to sleep

The little petals chased me, as I picked the soppy soft petals off my face

They tangled themselves in my hair, and wanted me to stay

 

The moon finally made his greeting 

And the rain began to stop

And the peaceful silence, a coin could be dropped

I looked upon the stars, like fresh gold buttons laid

 

And suddenly I was back to my city home

Sitting beside my machinery, a sooty coughing night

Bare light to show me anything, not even a friend in need

Making the green, but green was cash here

 

But the shimmer of a late wanderer walked far outside with a candle

And I knew it when I saw it, a tucked away venture point of yellow

Ignore the metal and grinding gears from my fellow workers

And my feet are planted firm upon the fresh greener grass

 

Suddenly I can see them, picture them standing there

Walking alongside the wooden fences, some hazy yellow skipping in twos

Peering up at me, gazing like newborn children

Saying “where have you been?!” and Mother nature taking me back in

 

And the wind swinging through the leaves, to comb my neat hair

To something wild, a bit extreme, or perhaps a game of tag

Giving me all the dreams, I left back in that spring

A travelers’ s shoes to arrive when the clock goes ding!