In childhood we play double Dutch
Pure life cherished, led by luck;
Conjured up ever in mind are those days,—
No hurry, no worries, no heed, no Time’s behest.
Time elapsed by roller coasters,
Watching fishing and picking oysters
Go by with each day fun
Until days come to a close, until done.
Time is brutal— it steals man’s fate,
His very making days, his pearly gate.
His tidal waves are lost to the sands of time
His park-fun and joys, lost are his rhymes.
It is evening to think man is pure
For when childhood goes by life is Impatience for sure,
Been in the ugly eddy of time
To create a sonorous chime.
Do not take, O Time, the best of days,
Time of hide and seek as he waylays
Playing in the bushes and park
In the arboretum and yard and until the dark.
Copyright: Welkin Siskin