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I Miss My Youth
I miss my youth – the way I’d run
or swirl beneath warm summer’s sun.
Oh, dahlia daydreams of romance,
sweet kisses and that first slow dance.
My real life barely had begun!
Adventures I was slow to shun,
A whirligig, with glee I spun
imagining . . . perchance . . . perchance!
I miss my youth.
Good health was mine and ailments none,
and oh, to meet that special one
for whom I fell with just one glance.
Soft brown eyes held me in a trance.
The lesson learned: What’s done is done.
I miss my youth.
Copyright ©
Andrea Dietrich
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