Streams of Yesterday

I remember streams of yesterday
where in wonder, wildflowers played
within and of the summer breeze
and children laughed and played
the games of life in all its mystery.

The background bled in images
of magic and of make-believe;
yet I swear that I could see
an awesome splendor rise around
the focused charm of all their innocence.

The dusk would fall, and fireflies
would call all spirits
to take to flight with them
like stardust settling
in each pair of eyes.

To sleep and thus to dream
the many streams of yesterday
into another dawn’s awakening...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .