The wishing well,where i found freedom when young.
Full of wishes, just waiting to be touched by a young child.
Sunday morning after church would walk miles
Just to to drink the treasures, of another day
August was hot and dry, but when at the well
I thirsted no more, in the scourging heat
Knowing this little well was full of life
the burning sun could never fetch it dry
or the tender flowers thriving around its edges
bathed in its mysterious grace of stone foundation
with greenery weaving in and out of its little nooks
As age creeped in , i would not see the well as much
stories were told that it still stood firm, by the brook
but overcast ed with prickers and foreign debris that
over took the wishing well as time its beauty collapsed
I decided to take some time off work and visit my
treasures from my youth, which brought so many smiles
to this young gal, when needed so badly, in my many trials
This was my hiding place, where i drank joy and peace within.
my homesick eyes could not wait to look upon the well that served
me so many years.
As i walked along the path, i walked when young,i shed tears
I could see as i came closer, branches were covering the well
twisting around its body, my heart felt sad and broken.
She looked as gracious as i remembered,though age drew her well
The flowers were now all weeds, climbing her once alive form.
I sat on the ground, wanting to just hold her, as she once held me.
I knew time had taken its youth from her, as it had me
but then i remember the privilege i had of having her when i needed
her so well.
As decades passed, she still stood like a beacon, i once ran to
I then knew she was there for a reason, for me as i grew
in a world that had so many wishes, i had mine too
from this wishing well, that comforted a small child
that walked for miles
to find herself, and freedom to love
gaining so much, while taking away her loneliness.
