The sunrays, brighten the debris
Lying scattered helter – skelter
Like dead glowworms.
Slowly those memories rise, resurrected.
I see a pair of eyes, with love overflowing
And a mop of brown hair
A boat slowly rowing, rowing away,
And those pair of eyes, [ah those pair of eyes!]
Following me as I become a blur
Still holding the love note in my young hands.
In perspiration soaked.
But why do I still choke?
Ah silly me, once again rambling,
Meandering, reminiscing, travelling
Over hills and dales, those forgotten vales
One moment holding hands, slipping and tripping
On snow- sheathed meadows.
The next moment lurking in the shadows.
Hey, is that me, on the trunk of that ancient oak
Admiring the wide, blue spaces
As the sunlight filters through the green canopy?
Or reading Dickens ‘Ivy Green’
Blushing furiously under the admiring glances
Of the brown haired one.
As one spunky sunbeam dances and preens
On his hair?
I was lying when I said I don’t know where I have gone.
All along, I was there stealing glances
At his gold – tinted brown hair. Yes I was there.
Listening to the notes of his unsung song.