Impromptu ode to the weeping elm of youth
Ode to the weeping elm of youth
This will be an ode impromptu
an ode in praise of the ways
of the tree in a crinoline
tree as a tree house
tree as a gnome home
tree as a circus ring
tree as a foreign land
tree as a trampoline
tree as a platform
for hula hooping girls
Yes I mean that
yes that was truly true.
We were wild dogs under your skirt
we were trapeze artists and Tarzans
swooping and swinging from your lanky limbs
we were hula hooping whooping mountaineers
standing triumphant, flying our hoops
riding your hump and swirling our hips
There were trips there were tumbles
there were tears there were fears
there were secrets and bumbles
there was solace and silence
and most of all there were girls girls girls
all flying and hanging and swinging
our heavenly hips around and around
our muscular waists
on top of the world
for now and whenever
we six little old former girls
remember
the foreign land of childhood
that is forever our own.
And that is my impromptu ode to the weeping elm of my youth.
The photo is of a similar weeping elm in the grounds of beautiful Mona Vale in Christchurch.
The original sacred-in-my-memory weeping elm was and hopefully still is in Bristol Street, Christchurch.
Once upon a time there were six little girls
Trees featured very prominently in our childhood and, although I wouldn’t dream of attempting to climb one now (apart from small garden trees with the use of a ladder – and I’m not supposed to do that!) I do still admire them, marvel at their growth, and talk to them. I imagine all the adventures that modern youngsters are missing out on by being kept “safe”, all the dreams that they don’t encounter by sitting hidden high up amongst the leaves, and all the thrills they will never experience in finally getting up to that high branch. I think I need to go and ask Mum if I can go out to play!
Fancy having to ask! My cohort as kids were ordered to go out and play, and don’t come home until 5 o’clock 🙂
We were called back with a handclap which we could hear within our range of play!
I enjoyed your weeping elm ode.
I hope you have some trees from childhood in your own memory. (Of course you do…)
As a child, I climbed a very large pecan tree, loving the view up high. That was years and years before I flew in an airplane. I probably hugged that tree before anyone ever talked about tree huggers.
They have always been huggable…and hugged 🙂
I’m glad we both hugged trees.
A beautiful ode Rachel
Ah thank you, Sadje! Suddenly I just couldn’t help myself.
Yeah, we get these moments where we can’t help ourselves but write
Your Ode is filled with such action I can feel the wind against my face and the stretch in my legs & arms as if I were one of those girls…and ‘Once upon a time there were six little girls’ is sheer delight.
Oh yes, wasn’t / isn’t that just terrific?
Your description of childhood is so vibrant and lovely. It takes me back to the wonderful games of my childhood with siblings and cousins.
I am so happy about that!