Myrtle Street

Intact in my eye are a five year olds streets I peeled oranges bored in Sunday School pews Seldom a shoe on my naked free feet hardly my knees without a blue bruise To the table clothed mountain , overlooking our gang Up to the clouds- our spirits flew A carefree flock that rolled with the flood Of playfulness- smiles and spirited song Shopping mall mischief and water bomb balloons A fun that fled away too soon Yet the memory Is somehow still fresh in my blood It is recalled as the taste of a favourite sweet- Or the wide grinning faces a young boy knew When he idled his summer on Myrtle Street