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Childhood  Views

So long ago I remember our house on the hill.
I remember my favorite window that viewed my backyard.
The old oak tree appears to stand on guard.
The morning sun would bring a shine, soft rays would sweep
the blue spruce pine.

The Sparrows in full sight would skip upon the ground, then
Spring into flight in chirping sound.
I sat by this window all seasons, for many blissful reasons,
It was my special freedom that calms my way until I could go out
To play.

The sun rises and sets many years, today the light reflects my tears.
My loved ones have died, some have moved away, and I can no longer play.
I was told long ago, that life is not a game, yet, it lingers in the heart
Until God calls us home by name, yet, the childhood spirit remains the same.
Somehow we are blessed with youth when age has taken its claim...

 



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Childhood Views