Days of Magic

And the day was fresh and new; The rainbows sung a song of change in a time when time never changed. The soft sigh of summer breezes looked but for a dreamer to kiss lightly with their sweet songs. And butterflies sighed just to be alive. What a day, what a time to dance to the songs of youth. What a new memory we created in but our thoughts of sun-kissed waters and cloud-speckled skies so far above or heads. Oh, what a day. Oh what a time for such youthful magic. Forest rain pools, each waiting to tell a story of its own as we drifted through the times of magic that our young age gave to us as the gift of this loving universe. Rain pools, tiny and shallow, hidden beneath dancing leaves above, softness cast into the mind. Who can remember the days when hearts roamed so freely over the meadows and forests? Who can say that the days since have been as soft and sweet as these days, now gone by except from the memories of the heart? Was days of magic we ran through to get to today, not once stopping to see that it was these days, the days of magic, that had cast spells upon us to carry to protect us from these days. Was days of magic, never seeming to end until it was too late.