Childhood's lost world beckons
With fragments on the ocean floor,
That treasure box of long ago
Comes with play things as before.
A collage of scenes for the mind
Some wayward fish hanging freely,
A puppet in blue color I find-
Sets sail on a paper boat to sea.
A toy horse gallops in fantasy,
The skies have now turned to lime green.
Walls of my room crumple around me,
These images as a child I have seen.
From the vague dream I awaken
Recalled as much as I can,
Inside me is still that child then,
But has not Time made me a man?
All Rights Reserved ~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~08.02.14
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem