Perhaps it is because I’m old
That childhood glows like precious gold
Those days we thought had been forgot
Are part of each one’s Camelot !
Which role we play is our own choice
The option is weep or rejoice
We complicate decisions made
It’s what we do when plans are laid !
For each of us who would go back
What’s done is done we can’t redact
While we retrieve lost memory
There’s nothing that God does not see !