Fanciful days,
Alluring nights,
Mingle,
With neon city lights,
Salty breezes tease,
And trespass within,
Without warning,
Through dreamy sleeps
And wakeful hours,
She finds her days,
Are lived in thoughts,
Of days gone past,
Of a youth,
That did not last.
Pen & Paper 
Your poem brought to mind Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days”…people who live in their past, so much so that they ignore the present until it also is the past.
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Yes, I agree. I have to catch myself from slipping into that daydreaming scenario of thinking too much about the past.
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Me too. 🙂
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A bit of me in that poem, living the wonderful days gone by, and children listening with delight.
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Me too. It is fine to reflect occasionally when in conversations but I often find myself remembering those unforgettable days; the birth of my daughters, the loved ones I’ve lost and I want to remember them.:)
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Wonderful…as if you are calling memories from the past!
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Thank you, yes, often forgotten and only remembered in simple fateful observations by chance.
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