A Boy on a Hill

Inspired by the photo of a friend. ;)

I met a young boy once

on a horse

on a hillside

with a heart as golden

as sunset on the summer solstice

 

sweet light slanting through broken fence rails

as bright and gilded as the crown of his head

 

and he spoke to me of true things, new things

and blue things in a way only the innocent are wont

to do

 

and I remember the unexpected trust of those moments

so long ago . . . when it all felt so completely

summer and full of all things shiny

 

when the grass was high and

moving in a way particular to that season

of off chances

As rare as . . .

unconditional love

 

and I walk that hillside now and again

on the eve of a summer solstice

and wonder about that young boy

who sat on that horse

and told me of things impossibly dear

 

and I impossibly wish . . .

Reviews

[astronaut]

That picture looks like where I live. haha. This is a nice poem, it sorta reminds me or Wuthering Heights, especially the "walk the hillside" and "..boy who sat on the horse" haha but then again the most little of things reminds me of Wuthering heights. great job and keep writing. :)

[Desert Dreamer]

It is a wondrous thing to glimpse the innocence of past days...I hope everyone can experience such things again and again, even though the innocence is long gone. Beautiful.

[Forest Green]

Reminiscence provides the getaway, memory provides the horse. One moment captured by the click of a ten dollar camera can become the cornerstone of one's life and the doorway to enchantment; happiness is never never seems to saturate a time, but it does certainly color it with sweet melancholy. We wish we could, if but for a moment, have it all back.

Beautiful poem...inspired by a boy who's feet don't quite reach the stirrups. ;)
Daniel

[Ed Hart]

yes, two spoons of sweet with my sadness, please...my dear jill, you just opened everyone's memory closet, and changed the flavor of our day

[Arthur Henn]

These are the best kind of memories - Unconditional memories of budding, flowing love - like a fresh water stream that never goes bad. I have a memory or two like this...

Thank you (J) thank you for sharing.

Art