Carefree days

With my head on your arm

we lay squinting at the sun

as giddy-headed clouds raced against time

we lay there weaving spun-sugar dreams

lacing our fingers as we whispered

our giggles carried on butterfly wingtips

the drunken moon faraway, skipped along its orbit

the rosy future glowed a beauteous shade in our palms

we were young and the times were heady

we forgot to bottle and preserve those sunny times

lugubrious clouds of discontent hang heavy nowadays

their dislike for sunny days so apparent

laying in the park, following butterflies and gathering flowers

seems so frivolous and such a waste of time

haste crushed those spun-sugar dreams

and the moon is always in a rush to avoid stepping on them

may I sleep with my head on your arm tonight

as a homage to those lost carefree days?