An angel from the good days,
when mornings began in love,
a reluctant boy leaving bed,
for a red-carpet walk to wisdom.
Dust storms during games,
brownies; we all a uniform lot.
Free spirits and drawing books,
those pictures made her, I was near.
A man's whole world she is; now,
coming back to a lost memoir.
Dear, near - the longing thoughts; the heart,
wishing it was two seasons young.
It's not! She, a perfect match;
wife for him, a friend for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem