Analysis of Of Long Ago

There was a time when, long ago,
as children, we would walk
along a nearby green-clad
laneway, imagining it was a
mysterious place, leading to
adventures of great importance
and intriguing destination.

We rolled down its small hillsides
laughing, covered in the juice of
onion weeds. We thought they were
wonderful, with their nodding
white flower heads and their bright
green leaves of springtime;
sunlight and heaven-sent leisure.

At the end of this laneway was
a swamp, and in this special place
swam tadpoles and small frogs;
also heaven-sent for us to capture,
cruel children that we were,
unknowing in our innocence
that their fate would be uncertain.

New frogs, with tails intact, would
leap from their watery prisons into
gardens devoid of swamps or
streams, with birds and cats waiting
for these tiny creatures, who, having
left us, would most likely perish.
Had we known, we would have cared.

The laneway is no longer there,
although in my mind it remains;
a place of memories and laughter,
of childhood and dreams,
of yesterdays and tomorrows,
of timelessness and promise,
of fairytales and story-book heroes.