Observations of The Urban Spaceman

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Adventurous summer holidays,
a time of make-believe.
When every hidey-hole was a fort
and monsters lived in trees.

When a man loves something with all his heart, he lives it, and it consumes him.

Gone is the freshness of warm summer rain,
Gone are the words which brought me to shame.
Gone are the birds, aloft in the sky,
Gone are the flowers, which in fields lie.