Lazily, I meander down the overgrown, twisting path through the trees.
Over the stile, I reach a pasture of tall, scented, yellow wildflowers.
Searching for a dream, an inspiration of innocence lost.
Towering over me, is the massively, twisted shape of an old oak,
And recollections of days, climbing and leaping from branch to branch.
Nature impressed on me its wonder and glory.
Diverse colors and smells once gave free reign to my imagination.
No longer can I conjure up and pass the time with my phantasmal friends.
Ethereal visions of castles and knights, sailors and ships, aliens and rockets
Vie for my attention no more.
Every dream must be carefully put away.
Respect for the past though, will give new insight for the future.
For time is untrustworthy, ever spiraling forward, out of control.
One must take advantage of what we can learn in our allotted span.
Unless all we accomplish is in vain.
Nothing remains of that carefree generation of my youth, except the memories.
Down a new road I travel, with the coming of maturity and new responsibilities.
© Copyright 2018 Shawlyn. All rights reserved.
Comments
A clever composition of how fantasy so often becomes smothered by responsibility. Nicely done.
Author
Reply
Hi hullabaloo22,
Thanks for checking in again and commenting. Always good to hear from you. Regards and best wishes, Shawlyn.
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