The Park
The shadows cast from childhood’s grace,
From oaks once climbed with wondered zeal,
Still gently shade the heart’s chaste place.
A park where myths and dreams were real,
So long as thoughts remained puerile -
Imagination’s grass strewn stage.
Unchecked these shadows wane with age,
As grownup winds strip bare the trees,
Yet memories can still – assuage;
A canopy of youth’s reprise.
Rhyme – ababbccdcd
French form - 8 syllables per line
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