Do they swing even now

on the long forgotten gate

where emerald smilax

trails over posts which

like zats of a renounced

culture refuses to fall

Do they swing and sing

with the sonorous voice

of children like the sound

of an aeolian soft harp

reverberating in my

memory stirring anew

longing for time the

innocence of childhood

**John F Minton**

Revised and Published by

~ darkestangelica~ (with permission)