Friends Poem by Bryan Taplits

The times of Ali Baba,
Of past days which I pretend….
But my balloon has reached its highest peak-
So no more can I ascend.
Those memories that are yet left to me
The scenes which I still can touch-
Comprise all the things that nettled once-
But now that I crave to clutch.
With dusty wings, so my ship flies high,
To soar towards near-vanished memories,
Of faint times once bold-that now have been sold-
To blurring-age, voyages that I still might retrieve.
To wish you were still with me
Is not in my purview,
Though I'll hunt and seek-and ever remember to peek-
At that girl that once I knew.