I was an experienced, intrepid hiker, who had wandered the Appalachian Trail,
As warm gold regularly wanders a blue world, focusing on each vibrant detail.
I had tramped so many interesting paths, both the famous, and the obscure,
Which had afforded me valued life experience, like that at childhood's detour.
My paths at times were treacherous, like a looming winter, treading so softly;
And that's the way life is, a medley of sunshine bliss, chased by errors costly!
Flamboyant friends favored wild things too, as orchards favor sun and breeze,
Trembling in an ecstasy of ripe vitality; smothering in a late summer squeeze.
Faceted family fairly sparkled rich colors, like aerial lanes dragonflies swarm,
Or lavish gardens of hot, motley elation, where pink robin perches to perform.
When I was very young I had often felt, the ethereal moon was following me,
Because in the dark, it was anywhere I turned, in the sun's shadow, so pretty!
I lived in the house of purple wisteria, creeping softly along, in midnight blue,
Like moonlit dreams softly coming and going, some credible, some so untrue.
Fragrance stood secretly as sentries, under antique streetlamps of my street,
Like someone whom you remember quite well, who is still reluctant to greet.
Never-ending nasturtium days drew neighbors, like golden gifts of ruby dawn,
Or casually wandering, scarlet butterflies, pausing now and then on jade lawn.
I loved roving at cool, raspberry sunset, yet the old, familiar feeling was back.
If I strolled lilac east, or sunset west, the creamy moon lingered in my tracks!
For its porcelain beauty was in my eyes, as was a cool caress on my shoulder.
How had I chanced to gain this precious crony, like wisdom once you're older?
Merry redbirds danced in treetop sun, and the world stopped abruptly at dusk,
When I would gaze at my old companion, as golden yesterday turned to dust.
Pearly moon rays followed in night shadows, faithfully, everywhere I roamed,
And was there lone nights I needed a friend, like lonesome wind that moaned!
Stars and planets whirled in space, with a wild abandon, in the age old dance,
Yet pale moon visited with nightly reliability, as plum blooms exuded romance.
Could it be childish notions were real, and moon trailed me after bygone blue?
Like the fevered sun that aged in wisdom, I had lately discovered, it was true!