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The rain is tapping gently
Upon my window pane,
Bringing back fond memories
Of years that can't return again.
Of times when we were very young,
We'd take a mattress from the bed
We'd sleep to hear the raindrops beat
On the shingle roof of our old wood shed.
Removed our shoes, donned bathing suits,
Ran into the streets with playful glee.
While summer rain came pounding down.
Oh, again to be so young! So free!
The thirsty flowers drank up the rain
The poppies, daisies, sunflowers tall:
With hollyhocks we used to make
Our own sweet little flower dolls.
The smell of grass, fresh from the shower.
An aroma like a pure incense.
I can't remember ever smelling
Anything quite like it since.
My nose pressed against the window pane
Watching rivulets the raindrops made.
Feeling blue, and not knowing why:
To my childhood, tearful farewell bade.
Remember? Don't you remember it?
The times we used to have back then?
The days when all was pure and sweet.
We can't re-live those days again.
©
Used with Permission
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