Whispers of Youth
Beneath the oak, where shadows play,
A younger me would dream all day.
The breeze would hum a secret tune,
While sunlit hours slipped past too soon.
The laughter rang, so wild, so free,
A melody of what used to be.
Mud-stained shoes and scraped-up knees,
Chasing clouds and climbing trees.
I held the world in tiny hands,
Built kingdoms from the beach's sands.
The stars were closer, brighter then,
Each wish a promise, whispered when.
The summer nights smelled sweet and warm,
The thunderstorm a thrilling harm.
Raindrops raced down window panes,
A symphony of soft refrains.
In cardboard forts, I'd rule alone,
A monarch on a paper throne.
Dreams unfurled like kites on strings,
The future wrapped in golden wings.
Now time has softened all those hues,
The greens, the golds, the radiant blues.
But in my heart, a spark remains,
A flicker of those carefree plains.
For though I'm grown, and life has sped,
The child I was is never dead.
Beneath the oak, where shadows play,
A part of me will always stay.
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