The Gold Striped Maypole

Tender moments, frozen laments,
tears follow the dream
of the gold striped Maypole…

Round and round we’d go,
spring flowers to show,
flying our streamers
so very long ago.

The beating sun enhancing,
our bare feet dancing,
turning purple
in the fallen mulberries…

How I long to see those purple toes again.
And you….  All my friends…
to the end.

The gold striped Maypole survives…


© 2014 John Allen Richter



About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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