The green fields
One favorite ghaut
Where I once 
Roamed, romped and played
The banks
The trees 
The shades and rocks where
I once
Read, laid and sunbathed
All the spots that fascinated me
Filled my heart with fear and mystery
Places a kid would stand and wonder why
A feeling strong
Something here just beyond the visible eye
What could this be?
On bended knee
The cream and powder white dirt
Sifting this peculiar patch of earth
Friends with whom I'd laugh and jive
Some long dead
Some still alive
Holes I can recall
Holes I didn't remember at all
Entrances and exits
Covered now
Lost sheep
Even one lost cow
The entire mountain was my toy
They'd watch and wait for that
Redheaded, barebacked shepherd boy
The schoolyard was my playpen
The first time I “realized”
Way, way back then
The rabbit trick
Of cowitch
Nights 
Unusual nights
High tones and colored lights
Not a soul understood my unseen stats
Or gave a second look to those white cats
Tops and marbles
Spin and shoot
The foothills of my misspent youth
Come flowing back to a sleeping memory
A long lost stream of
Dreams
In crystal clarity
Subtle hints within the pictured storybook
I can read between with just a look
Shades and halves of humanity
Mortality
One string of destiny
A tremendous sense of family
And my spirit yearns for
The Chance to return
Back to the past
Back to my future
Can I, should I tell it no?
The good times
Montserratian times
Old times
The source of my present verse
Is it a blessing or a curse?
My spirit wants to go
Back to the future
Should I now tell them no?

It's far more complicated than it should
I had a plan simple and good
I have so many
Love them all
But…
These three have got me against a wall
It's easy to admit
Yeah,
There is a price
How do you make that one choice?
Take that boat and you'll satisfy a few
And hurt many who still loves' you
You can't run
Away…
It has to be done
I've got to be strong
No room for error
No space for wrong
I can feel her, feel them here
Nothing you can see or touch
But it does so much
Means so much
To us
The border that separates
Fairy
From reality
It's much more blurred for me
Than it is for Joe Nobody
The green hills
The silvery walls
The blood-red skies
It's home that calls
Many ties
One house
Many steps
The heights and depths
As I stand at the crossroads
On the cusp of…
A surreal clash of swords
In pictures and sounds
Songs and rhymes
A bombardment
Of 
Olden Times

Olden Times © 2003 Ahkenaton  all rights reserved
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