Once more the evening falls
Upon the playground in the shade.
Reflecting in my seeping tears
Upon the games I played.
Recounting sunny faces
Of the ones who came to play
And toss the small but coloured
Word throughout a summer's day.
The random scattered memories
Kicked up by scuttling breeze
We, infants ripened in the sun,
Beware our scoured knees.
Once more the sober moon has
come to pass
To show that golden fields are
Scorched and scattered as the summer's
we found the truth when we were girls
Games are made for burying in
I sit and sift my summer through
written by Yvonne in 1977
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem