Children Playing
Children Playing

Haunting memories fill my brain

Of days gone by, not seen again.

It is, as if, time now stands still

For proof it’s not a dream, but real.

Those moon-bathed nights and golden days

Spilled like jewels in languid haze,

While future’s tryst postponed again

Gave way to innocence sweet reign.

With bold bare feet and bronze-tanned skin,

Sun-bleached hair tousled in the wind,

We romped and played and dreamed in bliss,

Trading time for happiness.

Warm face tilted to the sun,

We didn’t know when it was done,

Without knowledge it slipped away

To vanish like the breaking day.

Marie Hunter Atwood-1988

1 thought on “Nostalgia

  1. This poem makes me nostalgic of my childhood. I can feel the summer sun on my face and the time Angela and I spent imagining and exploring new realms together! What fun we had playing!


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