Oh Child Hood! How Beautiful Were Thee!
Like a silver glittering in the rainy cloud I see.
We flew to the unknown heights on your feathers,
Touched the resplendent warm rays when gathered.
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Many of us call and recall childhood as you do in this your apostrophe to what George Eliot calls the Golden gates of childhood! ! ! a good poem! ! !
Very, very good poem, really enjoyed it.