No Poison Ivy

.
.
Underneath a
Golden sky,
Over hills
Of red clay,
A small girl
Ran and ran
Because it was
Pleasant
To so do.
She came to
A tall pine,
Fragrant with
Turpentine.
She stopped
To listen
To the wind
Soughing
In the branches,
She absorbed
A new sort
Of singing
Conversation
Whilst climbing
Higher
And higher
And higher.
Soon the
Clouds thinned
And the atmosphere
Changed.
This was
So interesting,
And the pine
Tree’s singing
Conversation
So beautiful
And informative
That she climbed
Even higher.
After a while
She realized
She had passed
Through the moon
And was observing
Her galaxy
From a different,
And terribly lonesome,
Vantage.
When she
Turned to view
Her way home,
She found
That her feet,
And the ground,
On which she
Was now standing,
Completely eclipsed
All of her
Origins.
The sky
Was black,
And dust
Was gray,
She was lost.
For the time
Being she would
Have to stay.
However, jumping
Was more
Fun without
Red clay boots.
Low gravity
Gave new meaning
To the term
Tons of fun.
The occasional
Over passing cow
Spilled giggles
Which sounded like
Helium laughter.
Also, there was
No poison ivy.
.
.
Bear… 08.25.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015
.
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