You can never go back.

Lost faith, lost love, lost innocence.

And Christmas is never quite the same

Without the belief in Santa.

Humpty Dumpty was never mended after the Fall.

And yet we build again

New eggshell castles in the air.

Leaping arches, flying buttresses,

And lacework traceries over windows

Overlooking faery gardens.

The gentle splash of crystal fountains.

The sound of nightingales,

The scent of flowers.

Seeking again the lost Paradise.

But each rebuilding brings an equal loss

Diffusing energy; seeping strength

Into a universal blandness.

How long before all hope is diluted by despair?


Copyright H.St.V.Beechey.