In Childhood's Realms...

In childhood's green realms, I find my sanctuary. Vibrant voices and sweet scenes return whenever, I choose to expand my primed consciousness beyond these parochial days of disillusionment. In childhood's keen realms, avenues abound with spring's spellbinding, scattered flesh pink and milk white blossoms. And young lovers rest in each others arms, re- born from placentas of lush, languid eternities. In childhood's rich realms, there were no strict boundaries, between self and world, only the flow of Time, like vast oceans teeming with fresh possibilities. Now everything seems ever so predictable. Innocent eyes are clouded by great trials of Age, and wonder ceases. Elfin melodies soon fade into nothingness. Enchantment leaves no traces. The softness of things, becomes hard, and then rusted. The mundane prevails. O in childhood's verdant realms I'd climb boughs of trees, into dream- like mysteries! Every hour seemed blessed with miracles of warm surprise, in Youth's summertime. I guess that was way back when, in fragrant Eden, before the Fall's bitter coming.