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Robin A Spicer

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Member Since: Oct, 2002

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Of days Gone By
by Robin A Spicer
Wednesday, December 31, 2003

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Dweling on my Childhood days.
This time of year is always hard on me.
I miss the Snow and the old ways.


Of Days Gone By

I sat here dreaming late last night,
New Yearís Eveís from my past.
Through youthful eyes, the world seemed bright.
Upon that World my net, I cast.

Processions to the Village green,
The Yuletide Tree was carried on high.
An offering to the nighttime Queen
The flames they licked with a gentle sigh.

We danced around it, Deosil.
Hand in hand, we laughed and we sang
Then tired and weary to the ground we would spill.
In the distance heard the Church Bells ring.

From the embers hot spuds were pulled.
Hot melted butter lots of salt.
Mugs of Mead warm and Mulled.
Listened to stories of days of old...

Of ancient warriors brave and bold.
When Gods walked and talked with men.
Hunting Boar in winterís cold.
And Ghosts and Spirits roamed the Fen.

Tired and weary we start to leave.
The mist comes rolling across the Moor.
Homeward bound we wend and weave
Hearts filled with the dreams of ancient Lore.

How I miss those simpler times
That haunt my dreams and memories past.
When I lived in cooler peaceful climes
I weep at how the years have passed.

Robin. A. Spicer

© 01/01/2004

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Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader) 1/3/2004
This is a beautiful and marvelous reminiscent write!
Reviewed by Gwen Dickerson 1/1/2004
Nicely done, Robin! Happy New Year!
Reviewed by Tami Ryan 1/1/2004
This is a wonderful, reminiscent write. Thanks for sharing.
May abundant blessings be yours in the New Year.

Reviewed by Simon Thurlow (Reader) 1/1/2004
Delightful write. It is funny how much these events seem to change in our eyes as we get older.
Reviewed by Kate Clifford 12/31/2003
I'll send you the snow when it arrives.

Extremely well written!
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