The memories that last,
Where the asphalt turns to grass.
The wafting scent of gold,
Where the recess balls were rolled.
Here are tastes forever known,
Where friendship was at once sown.
And love was first traded,
Where heartbreak soon invaded.
Unintended pain struck,
Where we exercised poor luck.
Friendships have since drifted,
Though experience was gifted.
Love will be rebounded,
Through others better grounded.
And stitches were a story,
Though at the time it was gory.
Now drifting past a bush,
I smell the golden push.
The bush of little treats,
Of honey oh so sweet.
It still evokes a chuckle,
That glowing Honeysuckle.
