Oh! bygone days of used to be.
Of days that could not last.
Those pictures stained and worn; pictures of the past.

Memories return like swarming bees.
Of Daddy first, with brush in hand; They worked together side by
Side. And fished the streams and ruled the tide.

Mirrored images they do reveal. Of Mom crossing the street with
Boy in hand.
A mother's love you can't replace, with an old folks home, and a
Guardian's care.

Aunts, Uncles, Brothers, all. Old and young, fat and tall.
Two young ladies with dance attire: Sequined costumes,
Tap shoes too; silken dresses to admire.
There's a little boy shoveling sand, and a little girl with doll
In hand.
He ponders long, he ponders hard. But lo he could not stay
And be again that boy at play.