The

sunset

fades

–

–

those

carefree

days

.

o

f

.

passionate

plays

.

a

n

d

.

shimmering

champagnes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

carefree

days

.

o

f

.

passionate

plays

.

a

n

d

.

shimmering

champagnes

–

–

that

somehow

–

–

got

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

somehow

–

–

got

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

those

carefree

days

.

o

f

.

passionate

plays

.

a

n

d

.

shimmering

champagnes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

carefree

days

.

o

f

.

passionate

plays

.

a

n

d

.

shimmering

champagnes

–

–

that

time

erased . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

those

yesterdays

–

–

that

got

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

got

away

.

a

n

d

.

time

erased . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

I

can

sometimes

–

–

still

see

–

–

the

pristine

places

.

a

n

d

.

the

smiling

faces . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

can

sometimes

–

–

still

see

–

–

the

pristine

places

.

a

n

d

.

the

smiling

faces . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

even

feel

the

–

–

warm

embraces . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

can

–

–

even

feel

–

–

the

warm

embraces . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

those

carefree

days

.

o

f

.

passionate

plays

.

a

n

d

.

shimmering

champagnes

–

–

that

somehow

–

–

got

away.

Reflection:  I was playing the wonderful song “Times of Your Life” by Paul Anka and the poem pretty much wrote itself – when I played the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. The poem was written fairly quickly – like an hour or so. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.