Dawn Walk In The Park Poem by Mary Champion

A shimmering, luminous mist drifts across the sleeping lake.
Chrome yellow jonquils new-born between the blades of
grass -
everything lightly veiled by the glittering morning dew.

It is unusually mild for the time and season.
Dawn has only just risen - and the light is a little
uncertain.
Wild deer, undisturbed by the sound of the nearby traffic,
forage amidst the trees.

Fleet-footed squirrels chase along the branches of an
ancient oak
whose damp, discarded leaves still gather around the base.
Springtime memories of a faded Autumn.

I make my way along the winding path,
retracing memories of earlier walks
when I was not alone;
when excited children dashed ahead
closely shadowed by an over-exuberant puppy.

Now they are grown,
the puppy long departed
and I, an old woman, full of aches, pains and nostalgia.

If only I could stroll through time, as I walk this path,
to recapture those moments
when life was sweet and I was young.
If only I could reach out
and touch with my hand all that I hold so vividly in my mind.