As Summer nights began to shroud
day-dreaming minds of children wowed,
and Autumn twines her changing cloud
to taunt and tease –
the ease of sharing pure and proud
seeks sure appease.
As fairer friends slip in and out,
routine lays path, paves Winter’s drought,
yet still that wrath, inured by stout
will recollect –
then set a course to stave off doubt
Old friends are those, that after years
turn back the time on well-worn fears
and then remind our eyes and ears
of warmer ways –
when love roamed free in fast frontiers
then turned a phrase.
Old friends must come with no regret,
expose, unfold in retrospect
stroll byways old – with care – reflect
that legacy … ..
And those that dare, troll with me yet
in prophecy … …