Going Back

I dreamed I was a boy once more and the world was still a wonder. Each day's sights opened a door whence the rain, why the thunder? Under rocks I spied fuzzy things that scattered at my intrusion. Brown and grey, some with wings they seemed a frightful illusion. I thought grown-ups were all wise they had the answers for every quiz. Out of my dream it was a surprise learning they didn't know all that is. I hope I dream that dream once more to live again in a world of wonder. There's certain to be more in store of spies, lies, and pirated plunder. (One of my old poems)