If I could touch those childhood moments,
when sunshine danced on morning's face,
and sang of possibility, and abundance,
of optimism, expectation and simple joys,
then, like captured drifts of cloud,
or light consumed, fairy-floss of day, could,
would I re-capture, those fleeting times
when so much was imagined, and so little
carved in the stone of reality; when hope
giggled in ridiculous and unexpected mirth,
in the corners of established time, and reason
dragged frayed slippers across unpolished,
dream-rubbed floors, while curiosity waited,
with clasped hands, to have her wings dried,
spread wide and shaken in pure delight? Perhaps.
Your poem is a delightful expression of the joys, dreams, and hopes of childhood. On a rare day, I can feel a little of my childhood sense of possibility. Enjoyed your poem, Roslyn.
ReplyDeleteI think sometimes we can relive those moments when we share them with our grandchildren. First steps, fearless attempts at the impossible and the security to know we can try just about everything...
ReplyDeleteThanks for your visit.
There is magic in childhood dreams. Even when old people forget their children they still remember their childhood days.
ReplyDeleteThis was a lovely little dance that whispered of dreams blown on winds and fairy dust moments --- and I really loved the line "while curiosity waited,
ReplyDeletewith clasped hands, to have her wings dried,
spread wide and shaken in pure delight? "
Such a powerful image conjured in my mind. :)
You captured the beauty of childhood...that magical time of curiosity and imagination. Really enjoyed your words choices and personification of Curiosity. The whole thing is just beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteYour poem describes childhood well. I especially like this bit:
ReplyDeletewhen so much was imagined, and so little
carved in the stone of reality;