Childhoods Dream
P
Peter S. Quinn
0
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From childhoods dream
all was going on to bring,
for life all then did seem
passions of joy and spring.
And new days were dawn
in depth of good fulfill,
from love that was drawn
to give and give more still.
But now I am alone
from childhood mysteries,
in another different tone
like a forest full of trees.
My autumn is coming near
and the sky is getting old,
high mountains everywhere
as days to nights unfold.
I cannot find my view
of what once was awaken,
and nothing gets through
that not is already taken.
If passions becomes spring
for once in a short while,
then once more I will sing
and find my childhood style.
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