Green Fields
The green fields in which we young ran
in summers long past, oh so sweet;
those honeyed days so better than
today’s rank forests of deceit.
Crystal lakes in which we young swam
in naked innocence and love;
the years before war, Vietnam,
when we could free the world’s peace dove.
Blue clear skies in which we young flew
on wings of canvas and of hope
we did not know what they all knew;
life is just one slippery slope.
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