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 The Same old Love Experiential Learning Granny Hidden Treasure Hitler's Legacy Ludwig II of Linderhof Now Pat The Cost Where have all the Mommies Gone? To My Dear Departed The Vessel What of Heaven Ode to Mary Schuelke
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By what treasure can we measure
the lure of yesteryear,
to recapture innocence, without fear?
By what handle can we grip its fleeting glory?
Precious memories of childhood,
Golden moments from the past.
We guard them in a secret cove,
terrified they will not last.
When pain engulfs us, or our hearts feel
we race back to the treasure chest,
and search until we find it--
We pull a rock over the entrance to the alcove,
and play for just a while,
where life was simple and beautiful--
Where lfie was love and a smile.
"netrance to the alcove"?
"Gonden moments fromt he past"?
"We pull a rock over the netrance"?
"Where lfie was love ..."?
With respect ... I don't understand your language.
It seems we all have that desire to go back to the more simpler ways / Even though my childhood was fill with beatings and a vicious domineering mother I recall private moments where I found things to amuse me and things were good. I do recall those simple, unafraid moments.