Pasts

I wish that I could share with you the smiles,
The sounds, the senses of my younger days;
The happiness that showed a million ways,
The ever-present gambols and dogpiles
Of misbegotten, well-remembered whiles
That ate up youth with gusto, in a haze
Of sheer exuberance. It was a phase
Of blissfulness made pure, which still beguiles
The older me you know. If I could share
Those moments, and their jubilance, with you,
Perhaps you'd understand, then, what I mean.
But now, because you've neither felt nor seen
That life, you cannot know, and I despair
Because I know you would have loved it too.