The Gift Of Elden Romance ...
The easiest place to find magic,
At first blush it must be,
The eyes of a child in amazement,
A playground filled with novelty and make-believe.
We all roam those places in our hearts,
The watercolors of young memories,
Aglow with the magic we can no longer touch.
The faces and voices of those gone on rendered as late-evening cameo,
Misty,
Wisty,
Haven inside.
The thunder of clocks and cash eats our lives all grown,
The places we once knew barren as twig sticks and Winter trees,
For the leaves that fell after Autumn were the magic of them,
They are the real-life skeletons of bygone days,
The bones of the treasures inside us.
Yet I wonder,
When Autumn turns to early Winter in our own weave,
The strings of clocks and gold stretched and frayed,
Might we catch again whispers of magic,
These stories of elden romance we hold,
In the old sense,
The true sense,
Maybe waiting for us to paint-fill a willing open eye,
Or softly pen it to poetry,
If only an ear will hear,
The gift of elden romance.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/30/2023