Golden Days

Golden Days
Gone are the Golden days of my youth.
Where Butterflies dance the waltz to the music of Chopin.
Grand palaces were pianos played they were ‘tickle’ away on the white ivory. Harps sang like sweet angels, and the orchestra plays softly in the background. Violins sing such a beautiful sound. These were the Glorious Golden days of my youth.
R. L. Sherriff 2016