How I miss my young childhood
Running throught the cedar trees
Throwing pebbles in the stream
Was long ago like a dream
Glimpses of the fairies there
Skipping through the woodland green
Head resting on mossy bank
Best of childhood who to thank?
Strangely this was wartime
When pure fear was all around
I'd sing song at morning light
Looking cheery, looking bright
I had my own secret life
Wayfarer far from all strife
For I'd be found tightly curled
Dreaming of another world
How I miss my young childhood
Running through the cedar trees
Throwing pebbles in the stream
Was long ago like a dream
Image found at https://www.bbc.com/news/49648867
Sounds like a magical time - at least we can revisit our childhoods in our dreams and with our words
ReplyDeletewhat a memory.
ReplyDelete