I often think of my boyhood days
in a friendly village near the shops
of railroad yards and factories
In deep thoughts I walk the
streets up and down and
recall who lived between
the walls of those old flats
of stone and wooden doors
My youth comes back haunting
my memory remembering how we
kicked the can and hide
and seek and tried to
lasso the moon while waiting
on mothers call
On my street I can see the
shadowy lines of trees
and telephone poles and
catch the aromas of fresh
baked bread and stews
I remember the open windows
with cigarette smoke swirling forth
and old ladies chatting back and
forth hanging out mattress filled
with straw to air them out for
a good nights sleep
The thoughts of youth are
deep and long thoughts
that never want to leave
for fear of never coming
back to fill my boyhood dreams
I remember the fort upon the hill
and king of the castle while
tumbling down with scrapes
and burns to give our mothers chills
I remember chasing the girls
around the block and begging
for a kiss then running to hide
after a bell was rung to watch
from hidden secret places in
lane ways by the sheds
I remember my broken heart
when told she would not take
my first kiss on her lips but on
her cheek and watch her rub
it away while a tear fell from my eye
A boys thoughts are lonely thoughts
but not forgotten thoughts
of long long ago
Some things I can not speak
of thoughts that make the
strong heart weak and pale
and bring a lingering feeling
from the soul so deep and misty
eyes that sorrow for tomorrow
For the ghosts that hide behind
those walls still are pure and sweet
and echo lullabyes of days gone
by yet never really leave my side
So leave me in my boyhood thoughts
so keen and vivid do they appear
and leave me dreamy for those
days that found me wandering there
© Copyright Vincent Moore 2010. All Rights Reserved.