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There was a time in the past, so long ago,
That teases at the edges of my mind.
Always presenting itself at just the right time,
When the world's reality invades my quietude.
A time when the sunshine felt to be just right,
And the air was alive and warm and buzzing.
A time when limb and sinew were so young,
To run among the tall golden grasses,
In fields stretched out forever.
To scale the branch, rough bark scrapes at knees,
Nothing is bigger than the one who reaches the upper boughs.
The trek through shadowed woods, boughs bend to shade a hot sun.
To a limpid pool, lazy water invites a lazy boy to lie at its bank.
The frolicking of a young boy,
In his world of lakes and fishing, woods and bugs,
Where finding a snake was the day's treasure.
Better than finding a chest of gold.
And a mother's kiss, the cure for any wound of skin or heart,
Then once again on to the fields of golden grasses,
When the sunshine felt to be just right
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