Robert E. Robinson

Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania, USA

Fields Of Gold

Into the fields of yesterday I returned.
My poverty-stricken memory made me yearn,
Amid all the old dusty shadows I churn,
To disern, recollect and once again relearn.
I anxiously leaped into the harsh dark,
and a warm, gentle touch took me by the hand,
And led me into the mind's secret treasures,
Where all of the suppressed carks of life still stand.
As I entered through artery's corridore,
And I stood in front of memory's antique door,
I swung hard and wide the old sinewed portal,
And again saw what I once had saw before.
Stretched out as far as the human eye could see,
Fields and fields of life's living golden meadows,
Flowing out like a radiant golden sea,
All of life's providence foreknown and forseen.
My determined human bark set sail again,
On life's living golden plan of treasured lore,
I partook of learning, and joy in marriage,
Abundance of heaven's tranquil peace, and more.
114 Total read