My mind wanders back to a gentler night
When I sat on a mound waiting for first light
It was a summer's night with a breeze on my face
And the full moon shone on the gulf in its rightful place
The day had passed at its usual pace
With classroom time and exercise in our race
And I dreamed of the things I'd do
When it was time for me to wear the blue
So now I have done all those things
Standing tall when needed and ensuring right rings
I suppose old men have a tendency to look back
But that boy on the mound would be satisfied with that.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem