The juice that dripped down chins turned gold by sun,
The weeks that yawned out long before their eyes,
The fields of fruit through which their legs would run,
Past plums and grass with all their sweet surprise.
Lulled to sleep by mint-sweet breeze and buzzing too,
Or splashed by drops that danced through time to cool,
Mouths made smiles by sweets that made the tongue blue,
Days that spread through time like thread from a spool.
The childhood days of wonder and warm whim,
Where time played hide and seek with the clock's rules,
When sun was etched on soft skin, limb by limb,
And the moon came out to play as night cools.
The summer days that are forever green,
And gold, and blue, and bright as I've seen.