We will return
to these childhood landscapes
with our angel wings.
Once again we will dip our hands
in the cool waters of the small brook,
pretending to be grown-ups
sailing across the ocean.
At four p.m., Mom will call us
to share creamy chocolate
and crusty bread.
Also that elusive honey,
always sticking to our fingers.
That will make us laugh,
plunging the cat on the sofa
into unfathomable thoughts...
As the seasons pass
we will set off again along
the shore of the years,
pretending to be grown-ups
sailing across the ocean.
Perhaps on this last day
rediscovering those
childhood landscapes
with our angel wings.
And the cat on the sofa
will have fallen asleep, reassured...
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Author:
Ellen (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 21st, 2026 12:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: Lorenz, Efrain Cajar, Demar Desu - 德马尔·德苏
Offline)
Comments2
Poetry is also the purest simplicity on the angel wings !
Thank you!
Nostalgic we all return to our past that continues to fade into the mists of yesterday and beliefs of fairytales where angel wings reside.
Thank you for this beautiful reflection.
You are most welcome
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