I hear the breeze of days gone by
with the whisper of long days, long nights
and with a sigh,
I strain for the echos, the signs
of loves lost, of games played
of all the grass and dirt and grimes.
Remember the times?
Merry-go-rounds and nursery rhymes?
That one first kiss that opened your eyes?
To the world of our minds, our maze
couldn't make out the beginning or the end
of those days
To no surprise,
They're comprised....of swing sets and slides,
jump ropes and bikes
and just when it was the end of the day,
the wind blows the smell of freedom your way.
Barbecues, fires, and the onset of night
to remind us of the times when everything was right.
What a sight!
As the grass and trees rustle in the wind
remember these days,
Of coloring books and crayons, markers and paint
paper planes, plastic trains, and origami flowers so quaint
running around so long that the blue in our jeans had gone...
faint.
Back then, our friends lived close and the games we played
in the sandbox and blacktops left us drained
So we sat on the hill and let the wind give us chills
under the trees, in the shade, from the heat we were saved
So much time was killed!
And yet, we were thrilled...
when our birthdays came,
and our family came,
and our presents came,
And we never felt lame, playing the same games
Making silly names, growing pains
Kissing Jane and dancing in the rain....
And as the wind blows through the silt
and the echos pass us by,
Cry!
For the whispers of the wind have taken flight
Reach out and hold on with all your might
as it is on these memories that your spirit can again fly
Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 4:33 PM UTC
I hear the breeze of days gone by
with the whisper of long days, long nights
and with a sigh,
I strain for the echos, the signs
of loves lost, of games played
of all the grass and dirt and grimes.
Remember the times?
Merry-go-rounds and nursery rhymes?
That one first kiss that opened your eyes?
To the world of our minds, our maze
couldn't make out the beginning or the end
of those days
To no surprise,
They're comprised....of swing sets and slides,
jump ropes and bikes
and just when it was the end of the day,
the wind blows the smell of freedom your way.
Barbecues, fires, and the onset of night
to remind us of the times when everything was right.
What a sight!
As the grass and trees rustle in the wind
remember these days,
Of coloring books and crayons, markers and paint
paper planes, plastic trains, and origami flowers so quaint
running around so long that the blue in our jeans had gone...
faint.
Back then, our friends lived close and the games we played
in the sandbox and blacktops left us drained
So we sat on the hill and let the wind give us chills
under the trees, in the shade, from the heat we were saved
So much time was killed!
And yet, we were thrilled...
when our birthdays came,
and our family came,
and our presents came,
And we never felt lame, playing the same games
Making silly names, growing pains
Kissing Jane and dancing in the rain....
And as the wind blows through the silt
and the echos pass us by,
Cry!
For the whispers of the wind have taken flight
Reach out and hold on with all your might
as it is on these memories that your spirit can again fly
(AIP)
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