Sweet Nostalgia
There’s a certain insatiable sweetness found
In the delicious memories of the distant past.
Like my herding in the wild, or my dad’s hymn singing;
Or reading ancient authors that time will never outlast.
There’s an ever elusive tasty satisfaction
Found in the wretched recollection of buried times.
Such as my notorious early schooling days,
Or the tottering beginnings of my nascent rhymes.
And there’s an even sadder and sweeter feeling
In imagining the things of antique days.
Like the lives of Wordsworth and Shakespeare,
Or the times of Abraham Lincoln and his ways.
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