I long for my childhood

I long for my childhood.

I long for
the sound of joyful laughter
and
the playful screams
stilled by crashing waves.

I long
for my wild imagination
and creative ideas
that led to the building of plastic parachutes
and paper homes
for my stuffed friends.

I long for
tea parties with my sister
and water wars with my father.

I long for
the fearful wonder that I felt
when thunder roared
and lightning flashed in the dark
and my mother's comforting voice,
her soothing touch
as she put me to bed
and tucked me in.

I long for
the days of exploring
and climbing trees
and when scraped knees
and splinters
were my only pains.

I long for
the days of wanting to be older
and when growing up
was a very attractive alternative
to being
too young
too short
too childish
and too little.

I long for
my childhood.