Childhood days when
through the tender grasses
of possibility and wept not
for things unknown to us.
Sweet days of sublime
unaware and non-fearing of reality
playing hide-and-seek and grabbing at the brass ring
of carousels of such exquisite simplicity.
Eventually we return
to the land of make believe
innocent again and full of hope
as age erases the scars of time
and life again becomes oh so simple and sweet.
© 2001 Marcia Miller-Twiford
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