POETRY
Posted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 2:33 am
Diggers, by Charles Carreon
Psychedelic ways are out of style
I'm a relic of former days,
Maudlin nostalgia-monger of
curious ways.
Flower children, hippies,
Alice in Wonderland--we're all out
of style with Peter Pan
Nobody ever visits Neverland.
You and I, we remember
When hearts were mild and faces
slender
And the city haze was left behind
Looking for naked woodlands
and clean water.
So what if it never panned out;
if the dreams glimmered and faded?
We looked and dreamed
and held and knew our dreams
before we traded them for food and
shelter,
This phase of life that's helter
skelter.
Having learned to dream,
you never forget how
to seek a path with heart.
Psychedelic ways are out of style
I'm a relic of former days,
Maudlin nostalgia-monger of
curious ways.
Flower children, hippies,
Alice in Wonderland--we're all out
of style with Peter Pan
Nobody ever visits Neverland.
You and I, we remember
When hearts were mild and faces
slender
And the city haze was left behind
Looking for naked woodlands
and clean water.
So what if it never panned out;
if the dreams glimmered and faded?
We looked and dreamed
and held and knew our dreams
before we traded them for food and
shelter,
This phase of life that's helter
skelter.
Having learned to dream,
you never forget how
to seek a path with heart.