When I was a young child, so long ago,
I’d relish in such simple things.
Like walking in fields and riding my bike
Or watching a butterfly’s wings.

I’d play in the meadow on sunny spring days,
Enjoying the breeze in my hair.
I’d go fly a kite or watch passing clouds
As they moved in the sky, way up there.

But that was the past and so long ago.
A time that is now far away.
A time I can only recapture in dreams.
A time that I crave for each day.

Oh how life changes for people.
No longer is it full of play.
Or watching white clouds dance high in the sky,
For adulthood has got in the way.


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Copyright ©1998 by Sheila B. Roark. All rights reserved.
Third place – Indiana State Federation of Poetry, October 1997.
Sheila’s biography page