Here now do I sit,
gazing out the window at the frozen yard beyond,
as my mind drifts to my youth, and I begin to ponder it;
Those long-since-passed days of blond,

when I played amongst the trees
and by the waters of that placid pond.
The days when in my youth I imagined swarms of honey bees
who flew about the blooming flowers
and were as if sworn enemies.

Those beautiful days when magic was real,
and the stars at night were so very bright;
Those blessed days of youth and zeal.
It is of those times my heart yearns me to write.

And through the glass, all that I see
are trees without leaves and a layer of snow.
But in my mind, my youth still calls to me,
those days of my childhood so long ago.