In My Younger Years
Everything was so spontaneous
and beautiful in my younger years;
a young heart reaching out to adventurous dreams,
making them as real as his imagined schemes!
Climbing a grassy hill,
pushing forward to reach mountains,
and discover hidden treasures
that lay in darkness for centuries;
frescos of saints in spacious caves,
a statue of an Archangel
guarding the dusty altar
as he thrusted His long spear
into the woeful Devil!!
Spring was a stunning sight of fireflies,
so incrediblly cheerful and thrilling,
when the impetuous wind
scattered the small white flowers
of a clustered viburnum
over the acient town of Baianum...
where I spent my younger years,
cherishing the liveliness of adolescence!
Coming down steep cliffs
towards early evening...
when the sunset was ablaze,
serenity was never felt so deeply;
and as weary as the canary's song would be,
it prompted me to sing!
In my younger years,
all those days weren't a passage through brevity...
they lingered on like they were enraptured by eternity;
If I had foreseen the misery of my misfortunes...
I wouldn't enunciate the loss of their affinity,
or the vitality of my unrelenting footsteps:
when I crossed,so unhastly,
that magnificent land called, " Italy! "
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2007
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