I remember things in me ... that I carefully stored away.

People, places, unusual faces ... all are with me to stay.

Precious thoughts, continuous longing keep things fresh in mind.

Is it me who is foregoing ... the treasures I don’t want to find?

I remember things of childhood but not the things of yesterday.

It seems time stopped as I left Holland ... so many years away.

Are childhood dreams and carelessness what I want to remember?

As failure came when I grew up ... like rotten fallen timber?

Maybe to be or stay forever ... a child of tender years

is the life I really long for ... but lost through many tears?

Jan Wienen