Classics English Literature

Posted: November 26th, 2013

Classics English Literature

Narrative Poem

Of all the memories that I consider my best,

Childhood summers certainly beat all the rest.

How we frolicked all day in our blissful sweet innocence,

With laughter as pure and childlike as our conscience

Always up to mischief, our eyes wore that gleam.

O those memories seem like a fantasy, almost like a dream.

We bathed in the pond and swam with the ducks,

So adventurous we were not afraid of the mucks.

Remember that time I was stung by a bee at the creek?

And run home with a swollen finger and a tear-stained cheek.

Together, you and I, we made a fantastic team.

The joy-filled days of yore were indeed not a dream.

She would always say, “Darling, take care,”

To swim in the deep end, you should not dare.

Do not dirty your pants you wore a fresh pair!

And don’t go up that hill, there’s a fox’s lair.

If you’re good today, you can have some ice cream,

And a dinner so good, you’ll think it’s a dream.”

“O Mother, I will come back at the end of the day,

As clean as a whistle, after much cheerful play

I’ll see you at dusk Mother, my friends await,

The weather is fine and lovely, O how great!

I promise that to be naughty, I shall not scheme,

I shall be the best boy today, almost a dream.”

The shrills and giggles as we played Hide and Seek,

And once or twice as I counted to ten, I took a peek!

The dragonflies buzzed happily around us as we played in the field,

We would act out funny scenes from our best movies, in laughter we reeled.

The days were picture-perfect, and the sun always set with a dazzling gleam.

So beautiful and serene, too good to be true now, was it a dream?

During the summer we all become friends; no fights, no spats!

Though once in a while from play, we got bruises and cuts!

But how could that worry us, we were having fun.

We made the most of our summers under the lovely sun.

Autumn would in time arrive as summer went down the stream.

But those fine moments were still recaptured in a perfect dream.

Now we’re grown ups, too occupied and busy to care,

About scurrying around in the fields, wind blowing in our hair.

We lose the child in us; we eventually let our friendships drift.

Although we should cherish life at all stages, for it is indeed a gift.

.Just a few years ago with energy, we were bursting at the seam.

We can live like that again; it was not just a wonderful dream.

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