There was a time when we were young,
the flowers and trees were always there
for us to pick or climb.
Running barefoot on soft green grass,
chasing the butterflies
or hiding in cornfields full of gold.
Red poppies, daisies and cornflowers,
would make a picture frame
around the fragile corn.
The trees, such easy climb,
for limbs so young
would offer us their prize
of mulberries so sweet....
The sky was always blue,
and the sun would never sleep....
Although, the moon at night
seemed eagerly to shine,
in silvery astral form,
to help us with the chase
of the flikering glow-worm.
And when caught, we'll put it
in a jar, and watch it glow
in the darkness of our room,
until our eyes would close
into a child's sweet repose.
For, tomorrow another day will rise,
and fresh of limb and mischief guile,
we'll run again barefoot
into that field of gold,
under a sunlit sky......