Before And Now Poem by Valsa George

Wandering back in thought childhood's happy days, days of innocence and truth, free from worldly strife....Valsa.... those were the golden days gone forever.....great reminiscence yet touching indeed.......10

absolutely right and loved this poem which is a harsh fact! Yes Mam..those days are gone forever...wish we can rewind and travel to those past days, where we were never bothered by the lifes miseries and were under the careful custody of our parents.......... today when i look back to those days, feel that we were actually totally unaware of what our parents were goin thru then, as it never came to our knowledge, and we led a very carefree life! ! ! Thats childhood and the innocence that goes with it! A very sweet poem Mam...absolutely loved it!

How happy were those days when young and free Being safely sheltered from all deceit and worry............................. very nostalgic..nice

my favorite lines: Until sun's hot rays came pricking on my face, Thoroughly lost to the world I lay in dreamy ease Akhtar, below, says their was no TV in childhood. and maybe for him (a little older i believe & in Pakistan) there WAS no TV. but here in a middle class family in the u.s. there was TV in our house before i was ten years old at least, in the late 1950s. but i too looked back fondly on my childhood, with the innocence, the ignorance, the carefreedom to climb trees (though i did climb a tree just this week to saw some branches) , to catch frogs, and to build huts in the woods. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - thank goodness, i still have no trouble getting to sleep, AND, for now at least, i don't wet the bed anymore [maybe you say any more in India? ]. of course i DO get up once or twice most nights to pee, but i fall back to sleep easily. When senility strikes some people, maybe then they have the carefreedom again? [yes, i made up a word, i think] Have you tried sleeping pills? Thanks for sharing, Valsa. bri :) Bri's Before And Now As a boy I was happy and spoiled. My Mom washed all the clothes i soiled. Perhaps I did not KNOW I was happy, but I think I rarely ever felt crappy. I could play games with my friend. It's too bad childhood has to end. Then it's bills and chores for sure; for growing up, there's no real cure. But NOT all grownups are successful, as life can be HARSH, and STRESSFUL. But I've been lucky, I must say, for........ at night sleep comes when I hit the hay.

My experience connects with yours in four areas of this poem 1) MOST of my childhood dreams were benign 2) Sleep was total, absolute, undisturbed, restful 3) Our parents were always sheltering and caring for us. (Later I wished there would be company in the house) .4) All of that is OVER and sleep is hard to reach, rarely lasts more than three hours, is filled with restlessness. Such is human life. Emerson wrote no person over 30 can wake up completely happy. Hmmm. As always your poem is a pleasure to read with its graceful lines and encompassing rhymes and its truth-telling.

A worthy write reminding me about my those lovely fairy days, who by no means can be brought back again. Now I can only console myself thinking once I had those fairy days... Thanks for sharing.

Nostalgia and longing ooze in this poem. It is a sad fact that we can never get those beautiful days of childhood back. Yet, there is a beauty and sweetness in pining for it. Well done. (10)

Those lovely days of childhood were best. With all those lovely years merged into our past Can we, into that bliss, once more be cast Free of all overriding passion in our breast And at night gliding into undisturbed, dreamy rest. Beautiful lines of longing. Enjoyed the whole poem.

Wow, how amazingly diverse human experience is. Although raised in a financially secure home, and with loving parents, I was never so happy as when I was able to leave my childhood behind and see myself as my own master. Just one example of the trama in my youth... The kids visiting their Grandmother next door told me (I was about 6 years old I think) that they had put a firebomb under my house that would burn my house down that night. I awoke from a nightmare believing that the house was on fire and that we were all so to die. So traumatic was this event that I refused to admit to dreaming until I was in my twenties. Instead I told myself that dream like events were just day dreams and that since I was not really asleep I was always in control, it was just my imagination after all. Living in a tough part of town I was also fearful of attacks from gangs of kids that would occasionally prey on others as well. These days, living in a nicer neighborhood, I sleep much more securely in my old age. True security is probably almost always an illusion however in this world.

Those sweet innocent days we all wish them back. Beautiful poem. Thank you.