Wisps and whispers
of a childhood
hidden inside a vibrant heart,
forever
nature’s companion,
ally
and confidante,
blossoms of youth
in little posies
here and there,
to changing scenes
of prime
in shades of blues
and golds
and secret greys,
wandering into winter’s walk
in panic’s hustle and bustle
with no rocking chair in sight,
shattered promises
and half-remembered dreams
somersaulting down the years
in kaleidoscope patterns,
flowing into colours
and shards
that quiver
and recall birdsong
and beloved solitude
and tears
in the stillness
of
eternity,
never
to return.
(10 April 2013)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Our childhoods do often come out in our poetry and it's nice to visit those images at times. As we age our memories keep us going. I definitely like this poem. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn