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When Life Was A Dream
It was years ago
when the world I know
was simple and gay,
and life was a pie eating kind of day.
Nature was a beautiful painting
and love was easy to find and conquered.
Friends jumped in when wild laughters became us.
Everything you and I did were together.
Each day was an opened-eye, eager adventure.
Each flowers lured the eyes to feed upon its awe art,
and our mouths gaped in excitement when outside, platters sounded of rain.
These moments were precious time crystallized in stones, never the same.
The days were young, and
filled with unexplained sway of curiosity
and the gentle caresses of love
gushing from heaven above.
The nights were a wide-eyed wonder.
Each stars, shimmering dimmly in the distant, supress a life of light.
And the grass, ever so lush and shaded a hue of green, was a life within itself.
Pulling our eyes from the sight of a newborn was havoc, tried as we might.
Each lives that we lost,
Every new one we would gain.
Each friends that bidded goodbye,
a new friend would say " Hi "
Each books we have the pleasured to read, was a world within itself.
Each person we were lucky to meet has a story to tell.
Each day we greet was a fresh slate to begin.
And every night when we retired and say our prayers, was not the end.
Growing up in a world of love,
everyone was unique and everything has its value.
For every cause, there was a reason
and a special smile for that very season.
Every red roses were a gift of true love, and every child was a treasure from above.
There were none inevitables
and everyone was what they seem.
These years were fine and sweet, but I knew it happens only when life's a dream.
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