Sometimes, I travel time
Through my old dusty album
Scanning the images black and white
Of fine old world charm
How come there were so many trees
Flat single storied houses
The roofs were so near to ground
And the sky at touching distance!
Everything was so right
Like sweet well made porridge
Happy faces, tousled hair
Careless jaunty poses
Hands thrown round each other's back
Plans for the next adventure
Dusty feet and crumpled clothes
Held the band together
Childhood, a gift of God
When blessed with good parents
When care and love was abundant
And given without asking
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes, I travel time Through my old dusty album Scanning the images black and white Of fine old world charm- - - - - - - - this is a magnificent beginning as in WoW! ! ! ! ! yes, a family album does indeed make us " travel time" which is an extraordinary way to express this! ! ! ! ! 10++++++ for this gorgeous piece of writing
Thank you, Susan, for the generous praise!