Childhoods end.

In a hilly orchard where trees would sway 
Is where I used to play 
In the grass 
As summer passed 
Through winters cold 
Within its folds 
Autumn turned the leaves of green 
To colours bright and rarely seen 

As seasons went and gone 
The harvest carried on 
I grew and soon I turned away 
Under apple trees I no longer played 

I returned there once when I was grown 
The image was not the one I'd known 
The tress were old and leaves were brown 
And I remembered familiar sounds 
The laughing of myself and friends 
I stood there mourning childhoods end

Reviews

[Smriti Shandil]

I really like the sense of reminiscence mixed with melancholy that echoes throughout the poem. You are a really good writer.

[Cody]

Thank you very much I appreciate it, I'm glad you liked it.