Down the Memory Lane

Soft hues of dawn when dispelled my dreary Dull sleep, I heard her frail but full voice sing A dawn’s hymn in praise of divine glory, Voice wafting thru the air, mesmerizing, And down the memory lane of a child Struggling out of winter's cosy bed, Joining in...olden tune long in mind filed, Now, she not so frail, wearing a young head. And me of grey hair carried off by song To old times, in a pair of wings frail-grown, Back to where often I long to belong— To my reverie's captivating dawn, Yet all good things end soon as they begin, So did my ride on wings of times serene. _________________________________________ Sonnets | 09.08.2008, revised June 2023| childhood, remembering Poet’s note: Once, hearing my mother singing a dawn’s hymn transforms me in sleep trying to wake up… into a lucid dream. I am taken back to childhood to a similar scenario down the memory lane. She quite young then and not so frail, and with a fairly good voice. Ah, the world of childhood! I feel like being there for long. But soon realization dawns that it is only an early dawn's dream, me back to the present times—a child lost in an old man! This sonnet tries to capture these feelings.