THE WIND IN THE PINES

We were young and full of life
The warm summer breezes gently blowing
No cares in the world; we knew no strife
But, our days were busy, our faces glowing.

We romped and played in the old cemetery
Among our friends and families
Who had quietly slipped away
To a place of solitude amid the pines.

I remember those stately pines.
So tall, peaceful, sublime.
The gentle whisper of the wind would speak to us
As we rested beneath the sheltering limbs.

There we lay on the cool, green grass
Resting and planning our next great feat.
What could we do? We had no time to waste.
The summer was racing so we had to make haste.

I recall those long bicycle rides in the country
With dust trailing behind
As we sped along the gravel highways
On our way to our secret find.

I loved the Kool-Aid pops my mother prepared
As we were out conquering the world.
We would rush home from the days “work”
And quench that thirst, so bold.

We made our plans, day by day
And it seemed we had an eternity.
But in our quest to conquer all
We forgot the classroom would call.


The days passed so quickly with little time left.
Thoughts of school; studies flew through our heads.
Our wonderful freedom was about to end
We had to run with the wind.



So many things were unfinished
But the time was drawing nigh
That we would return very soon
To that dreaded, confining room.

It came quickly, the summer was over.
The school doors opened out.
We lost our time to discover
And our freedom was taken, we thought.

As I look back on those times,
I yearn to be there again.
To lie on the cool grass
Beneath those stately pines.

I am older now and the gray is coming on.
More of my family are lying there
In that beautiful place of rest;
In the place I hold so dear.

You see, that beautiful place of rest
Was near my wonderful home.
The home I remember so well
Where Mother was my throne.

But the Lord decided to take her
And place her near his side
So she could watch over her family
From Heaven, so very high.

I can’t help but cry
As I write this beautiful ode
But memories of a loving childhood
Help cover the pains untold.

I’m dedicating this to Mary, my mother
So kind, so sweet and dear
She went away at an early age
But left us her love so clear.

Thank you lord for my mother
Only thirteen years in my life
You see, in that time of my childhood
She was the beautiful wind in the pines.

Post this on the User Submitted Poetry forum so our other poets can read it. This forum is basically for discussing topics related to poetry, not necessarily for reading new works.

Les

Thanks Les for directing me to the correct area to post my poem. This is my first visit to this site and I had a little difficulty navigating. Much appreciated.

William