Remember the blue skies of innocence?
The sunny street showered with golden rays?
Now behind old blue eyes the clouds condense,
Once running feet slower in older days.
But was everything right? Let’s reappraise.
When I was a boy, I still hid my head
When the rain came on summer holidays,
Still spent a hard night crying in my bed.
I don’t wish those days could come back: the red
Knees and red face, silly superstitions.
Yes, me and you, and all our yesterdays
Have found a higher ground, and since we fled,
We’ve rung bells, sung, sprung into bed; visions
You see in the sky come true nowadays.
Fri 27 July 2007
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