TIMES PAST

There's a sad, sad gulf between youth and age....

We were the music makers,

The dancers in our halls,

The chattering lads, testosterone -

And over-active balls.

We were the kings of hope and life,

The lovers in the night,

The jokers and the thinkers -

Passionate and bright.

Those were the days we bravely knew,

We claimed the taste of sex,

We told our poems to the world,

To cherish and to vex.

Yet we were innocents back then,

Waiting for tomorrow,

Satisfied by “nearly there”

Lest we awake in sorrow.

And here we are and ages passed,

The music has grown dim,

Where shadows dance to ancient rhymes

On a half-forgotten whim.

And all the hope, the confidence,

The feeling of nouveau

And loving whilst the night was long

Is just part of long ago.

Reviews

[Lousje's Lines]

I love this poem of yours. You paint your youth so well and it gave me a laugh. Thank you for sharing your talent.

[Peter Rogerson]

Memories stay warm, I think, though the world grows cold....