Sweet, Sweet Magic

She swung to the left, swung to the right, jumped up a giggle, flew up the metal boxes and she walked into a tree, and then she was everywhere.

Old memories,
They say nothing at all
About how bright
The sun shone
On an otherwise
Perfectly lonely
And perfectly amazing
Springtime morning.

Nothing about the wind
Has much to conspire
With the droplets and dews
Of a season brewing over
The smell of midsummer
Dancing shadows.

The boy & the girl,
They shed some tears
And wiped them on trees
And looked at each other
With deafening glee

He slowed down
The clock back from
Five down to three,
Counted purple bags
Falling from the sky,
He watched her turn
Real slow, real slow.

While they moved
And they ran
And danced their
Melody of silent
Methodic melancholy,

Unseen to them,
He had turned from the
Jungle, into an explosion
Of scathing yellow.
She was the wind,
He, her watery shadow.

He tiptoed through
The looking glass
Of forever memories
And heard the rhythm
Kick in for the first time.

She swung a little
To the left and
A little to the right,
Jumped up a giggle,

Flew up the metal
Boxes and she
Walked into a tree,
And then,
She was everywhere.

Sr Web Journalist & Forbes-Nominated Content Producer. Managing Editor of TheTimesBlog.com & SpotifyPodcast.com. Aspiring Poet.