I walk the steps of for long days
with thoughts of long ago,
before me every wonder lays
of everything I know.

The summer months are fading
in the promise of the rain,
and in the shadows wading
where the memories are lain.

I found the sheets of ancient times
remaining from the years
of autumn days with tales and rhymes
and winters coming tears.

Each poem is now a memory
of something in my past,
and when I read I hear and see
the waves the sea so vast.

I feel the fingers of the winds
when once I heard its cries
and felt the trance its voices spins
and sadness when it dies.

I once more walk through forests dark
on moss of velvet green
and see a ray of sunlight spark
the birthplace of a dream.

Again I watch the raindrops fall
through mist of tranquil grey,
and in the darkness hear the call
of echoes from the day.

The footprints I have left so far
here on a page I see,
when once I wished upon a star
I wrote a poem as memory.

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