A poem:

I passed that age

when carefree was my heart

It seemed as if

my spring of life would linger

Eternal, never would

in time depart

But yet remain 

to be the harbinger

Of joy on which

I set no real value,

Except partake of its

refreshments sweet,

Nor would the coming

seasons see me through

Time’s altered sceneries

that I must greet,

Contemplating not

on what must follow,

Feeling not the ebb

and flow of time,

In which I chose to revel

and to wallow,

Heedless of tomorrows

changing clime.

It was a time of

dizziness unchecked –

A time when freedom granted

seemed so free,

When life itself appeared

so well-bedecked

With loads of joy that

never seemed to fleet

on time’s eternal wings,

Feeling not the rush

of circumstances,

Fearing not the labyrinths

 of aging,

Conscious not of yet

unproven chances

Nor the spring-time

carelessness of raging

In my own misguided

escapades of pleasure –

Infatuation, blunders

and regret,

All of which, in

quality and measure,

Served as lessons

I shall not forget.