Wild Wind

When I was wild as the wind
cycling down hill, legs outstretched
hair in a halo
and a glow
that only a nine year old has

From demure dresses
to oversized jeans
I was a demon
on the downward trail.
Loud and clear
on a boat setting sail.

Dancing in movies
home made plays
in the drawing room
the plinkity plonk
on a black Bechstein

We made up songs
and in the wild days
those were the signature
moves that defined
and grew like seeds
in a child's mind.

I dream of the wild wind day
nine years in the making
and a faint scar
left on the unblemished
chin of a child
too untrammelled to be trained.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 284 times
Written on 2021-10-30 at 10:30

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Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Ah the years, the momentum, gravity and lightness.

jim The PoetBay support member heart!
The details of my nine-year-old self were different, but I felt the freedom and joy of this wonderful poem.

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
We smile as we remember
Back in time - we travel back
To when we were kids liveing
Life to the full extant - no care's
Ken D