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A Schoolboy’s Cornucopia
                                                                  by John T Haupt
                                     “Whither hath fled the visionary gleam?”
                                                                                              --Wordsworth
                                       "The child is father to the man"
                                                                                                 --also Wordsworth (same poem)

Having lived on this world for 69 years,
I want to go there, where the younger me--
Walking, walking, walking home used to be, where

When at seven years old,
My schoolbell rang, where I’d
Watched, and watched
                                        the clock. 
And then I began my walk, walk, walk,
A little man alone—
Trekking, walking, trekking home. 
As the sun upon my bookbag shone , I knew
In my heart and soul,
That I was not walking home alone,
Where the wind whipped my jacket tail,
And the sun on my walking back warmly shone.
Painted leaves on bright colored trees,
Drifted down in the afternoon breezes,
Where rakes soon would harvest fallen leaves. 
On my schoolboy’s walk home, how well I recall even then
In my youth’s fresh blush thrall,
I knew well enough to give thanks for it all. 
Past tidy houses and manicured drives, landscaped trees and shrubberies, 
Black and white TV waited at home.
And supper’s ready at five, cooked by Mom,
Served at a table set for five--well prepared,
For a supper that began with a prayer.
Then TV till eight, and up the staircase
For homework, then sleep,
To prepare for the new morning soon to be there.
Wake up, take a shower, brush your teeth comb your hair. 


Schooldays came, schooldays went,
Between then and now many years have been spent.
On days like today, when memories return,
Remembering past things, aging hearts seem to yearn,
                                         to ease aging’s pains—

To dream as if here now we’re once youthful again.

© 2021 John T Haupt
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