Those Early Words Poem by Ivan Donn Carswell

Reading those early words wryly
brings fragile pleasure - a spare
grin lingers, there's a rare uplift
in spirits usually dour to baseline;
seems we're almost reconciled in
denying the same consequences and
concealing a leer long lost from
fabulous ages past and gone

And they were treasured times for
sure - flair omnipresent, no doubt
concerns and we could never fail;
purity of thought pranced casually
on pages, frolicked in open rhyme
and aired rhythms in a burlesque
extravagance - nothing mattered
but the words and what we were

Cheered by pure innocence and a
heart of gold it shocked to learn
not all shared the same nature; it
was there we forged armour worn
as bonhomie - swallowed all the
elixirs dictionaries contained and
swore allegiance to a glamorous
view of our brand new unity

Yes, the power sprang again from
the same words - it meant we're
still in resonance, less upbeat but
in tune nonetheless; these days
we'd allay others fears with more
circumspect consideration but we
still agree with that oblique leer
and a caustic tongue in cheek