Second Childhood. One For Joe Poem by Thomas Vaughan Jones

The sun lies weak and cowering
underneath the frozen hill,
defeated by the winter's icy blast.
Old Joe sits by the fire,
warding off the fearsome chill,
and reminiscing on his winters past.


The days of childish laughter,
when the world was fresh and bright,
and snowballs flew in innocent affray.
Imaginary counterpanes of infantile delight,
while sheer enchantment
kept the cold at bay.


His arms and legs were fresh with youth,
so firm and sprightly then;
Untarnished by the passing of the years;
Old Joe could feel this yearning
to review these sights again,
unfettered by the mist of ancient tears.


A young voice cuts across his thoughts,
disturbs his reverie,
'Grandad! Are you coming out today? '
Joe's heart soars to the Heavens
in a fit of childish glee,
as he leaves his fire and hurries out to play.