Dear Childhood, I Miss You

Dear Childhood,

What makes a home?

The place of your very start

Some place where family’s a part

A place that lives within the heart

What makes a home?

Of summer smiles and lemonade kisses

Of red cheeks and snowy noses

Of spring giggles and yellow days

What makes a home?

The memories that came and went

Of so many days very well spent

That carry on through darkest night

When the world seems only black and white

When summer comes and burns you red

When winter comes and freezes dead

When comes spring and fall both bled

What makes a home?

The memories within your head

I Miss You,

Annelise Boccaccio