Free Spirited

We climbed on playgrounds Childhood
Different worlds
Childhood stories
Clashing swords
We ran for meters
Discovering new places
Of abandoned crevices
The quiet little places
We swam
Into the quiet sea
Wrapped by its touch
We felt so free
Drifted our thoughts
Into most glorious stories
The good old tales
Of this land’s glories
Sometimes a tear or two
Was shed
Sometimes we dreamt
Awake in bed
Of all that’s been
Of what’s to come
Holding onto moments
While trying to be someone
A day of inspiration
And maybe pain too
So that we may learn
What we as children knew.

Jan 21, 2014
2:57 am

Days of Old Wonders

The empty swing now sits in dust
The broken chains have turned to rust
Stories of our childhood told
The magic of the young and bold
Charming bright smiles run around town
In search of adventure which cannot be found
The wildest of all imagination
Made by the hands of God’s creation
From the first bruise to the last sting
Wonderful memories forward to bring
Now young no more, I understand
But, how I wish to be a child again,
Laughing our heads off out in the snow
As Guardian Angels watched us bellow
Ninja chopping the waves of the Pacific ocean
Cart-wheels on the beach without any lotion
Playing with bugs and the famous snail race
Swinging on ropes like the pirates we chase
Climbing on trees and breaking bones
Splashing in water or skipping stones
Roller blade rides under the lights
King of the hill and snowball fights
Building sandcastles and men of snow
Telling stories with a puppet show
Constructing great snow forts and sledding outside
Down the icy white hills, the most wonderful ride
Dancing in the summer shower
Breathe in the air like smelling a flower
Wishing and dreaming upon a star
Impossible is nothing, a kid is who you are!
Dreams of being astronauts, flying to the moon
No longer a kid, but I’ll be coming back real soon.

July 6, 2011
3:35pm