Analysis of Memories

like a verse,  soft air between the bloom tramping,
and glee cleaved to foods, as a bird were mine.
Life run with a nature, verses and hopes.
When I was young, How wooing the earth has came?
like the rose upon a lips, like ocean against the tender light,
this eupnoeic home built with a hand, and body that does a
retributive wrong, on a burnished sand and shameless water,
how lightly flashes it then along; in a forgotten yore.
in the garden and forest, nought fussing his body and cloth
nou't looking for weather and wind, no care for self and tide
 When I was young.

Adam A Adam
16 sep 22