As of yet, untitled.

“Hometime!”
The hue and cry is raised
and with it, I am gone, losing
my winding way down leafy lanes that
glitter cold and golden, soft and sapphire
in the crispest spring.
Down pen, down paper, down tools!
- the streets are much more tempting
with their silver promises made
in the emerald afternoon glow.
I huff and pant (cheeks
ruby-red) round the
rolling hills that hide
the treasures of this city…

…(looking back, older - wiser? -
I realise that I
would give it all away.
All the coins and chests and
jewels and gold and crowns
and sceptres and stars and coronets
that you could care to mention -
surrender my kingdom
for just one more day:
One more afternoon of youth,
carelessly wasted
in the cold and golden streets
of yesterday)…

…But that
comes later
and this
is now;
and I
am young
and
golden
in my promise.