A Trip in Time

I now come to know, from a needle on my wall,
Seconds, days and years have passed.
Longing for the times I love,
A picture, a postcard and now myself at last.

In fond recollections of days gone by,
And thumpings of a reminiscent heart;
A breathless gasp and a saline stain,
For sure they reveal ; fate’s pungent tart.

I remember, innocent eyes that glowed,
And yes, the tiny nails I mowed;
I remember, inseparable sharpeners and broken pencils,
And also, feigned cries over fantasy tonsils.
I remember too, those colored school bags,
And skinned knees on spirited crags.

From days when my head was high
At a better toy or a flashing shoe,
Time has flown on fleeting sails
Now, toward forlorn lands I do not construe.

Forlorn lands they are,
Although here, a multitude is alive;
Each one in happy memories,
Holding on to shreds, of their childhood jive.
For we all, move on and march away,
But the eyes, the crags and the cries;
Immortal always and life itself, they always outplay.