A Song for lost Youth

It was the year of 19
When flowers bloomed
In between
The days gone by and some unseen
It was the year of 19

I was 37 years of age
I thought myself somewhat of a sage
Knowing not of what had been
Throughout the year of 19

And youth it had walked on by
Those girls I'd loved
Had said goodbye
What more could I
Think to say
But that this was my, my birthday

The fires burned in eternal sky
The figures heard
A breathless cry
I said I am the one you mean
Nothing special
In the year 19

For many watches had been made
By others more worthy of the age
By others whose place was renowned
Beyond my own so earthbound

What would I give to reclaim the time
I'd sell my soul on the turn of a dime
To get back what I had lost
To visit once on youth's bright ghost

But alas that's not meant to be
The swallows swoon in the arms of the sea
The Spring time looms like another thread
As the winter spinner sets down her head
And Autumn's mistress lets down her leafy locks
There in her hairs some strands of summer shocks

And her yellow hair still grows out through the grey
As there will still be sunshine in the cloudy day

And this is the song for youth yet to come
For those will carry on the torch of marathon
For the tortoise and the hare
For the leopard who never changes
For the lakes and mountain ranges
Giving some back drop
To the strangeness
Of being here,
Of simply being