Do You Remember

It was the 60's, and the liv'n was easy.  {Not really but that's nostalgia for you.} These may be old friends but, they're not forgotten.

 

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Brian

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Rick

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Harry

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Rod

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John

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Reinhold

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Anna

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Dianne

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Cathy

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Mary

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Children

Bright eyed children

          frolic in the park.

Each one so small in mind and years,

          crying only with alligator tears.

Restless and eager to play and sing;

          it makes the Fool’s mind ring,

To think them happy and full of love.

Racing along the grassy paths,

          leaping each other’s backs,

The old man’s heart forgets,

          it’s woes and regrets.

The magic moment soon fades,

As reality looms:

          Soon their youthful lives will end.

The children are doomed...

          for foolish children become foolish men.

They set out to change the world,

And pass by wisdom’s well,

          taking their first step ...

                    on a journey

                              through hell.

rj

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Sweet Dreams

Spring is such a silly season,

          the birds return and start to sing

Of the death of winter,

          and what the future will bring.

Trees awake amidst the confusion

          as grass devours the latent snow.

Rivers and lakes go quite insane

          and crack under the strain

Of yet another spring.

By summer, trees are clothed

          with a most ingenious disguise;

To lure unsuspecting birds,

          to rest, to nest

In the shelter of their arms.

          Flowers bloom,

Each taking their turn in endless parade

          when so many promises are made.

Autumn is a reflective time, as things grow old.

          Flowers fade and winds blow cold.

Trees are in their glory as their colors arrive,

          but weep silently as the birds fly,

Waving gentle limbs...  good-bye.

          Once they’ve gone, start to cry

leaves, upon the ground.

Winter arrives as no surprise.

          A cold and honest time, as the truth often is.

Trees stand naked to testify

          they’re not so beautiful after all.

Grass hides in embarrassment, as snow starts to fall.

          Gray clouds roll overhead,

So the sun may no longer see, the glory that was once a tree.

Oh to hold a bird once more, within these frozen limbs.

          Such are things dreams are made of,

                    and you are such a dream.

Winter is upon us, the birds have long since flown,

          but you returned and landed so gently on my boughs,

As if to say: spring will soon be here,

          and we can be silly once more.

Spring’s a time for lovers,

          and other silly things.

Phyllis

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Francis

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Marge

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  Joanne

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Thinking of You

You crossed my mind today

          and I remembered

A look, an embrace, a taste

          but that was yesterday.

rj

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And ?

Where were you when I needed you?

Where were you when?

Where were you?

Where?

?

rj

Good night old friends.