This Little Heart

Yesterday as I was walking, talking to myself, thinking, pondering,
My head was like a carousel! With a song in my head,
As I walked past the field of wild fern, the one I daily walk by,
I watched these kids playing marbles, flying kites and chasing wind and butterflies,
Though it was hot, the sun was in its prime,
I watched these kids and some more thoughts added to this head of mine.

Took me back to those summer afternoons when once I too was a child,
Garden I had a lush of green, where roses, poppy, lilium use to lie,
Miss my home in that small town, where even the smallest thing was so divine,
Oh! how, I wish to go back in time, when I played with other kids and caught fireflies,
Under that 60 year old Cassia, that my grandpa with love left in our little paradise,
Where little birds perched, looking at us sing tunes in our little paradise.

The tree was old, tall and strong, home it was for little feathered birds and bees,
Yellow flowers it bore in every March of mine,
Little hands of ours picked those flowers each, making magic in spring time,
Beauty was simple back in those days,
When everything measured in love and sweet rhythm divine,
Our little hearts were filled with grace of nature’s love and praise.

Wonder where are those simple days?
The home, the little birds, the little heart and yellow flowers of mine!
Certain I am, they will never come by, and never will I have those precious time alive,
All I’m with those memories, those sweet summers, winters and flowery spring times,
That sweet smell of my home, flowers in flowerbed that my father took care all the time,
Sweet relief it just is, this little heart of mine holds the riches when I was a child.

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Rebecca Alick

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I'm a constant learner, love watching birds, can spend hours appreciating nature and write canto to describe its amateur photographer and a writer, but still love to sprinkle on the white pages with my thoughts, writing is a catharsis for me.
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Refreshed my own childhood memories…amazing poem:)


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