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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #2271455
Poem. About spring and a fountain.
The fountain of youth was a simple spring.
Found at the end of a winding path.
The smell of spring was strong all around.
No guards were posted anywhere around the spring.

One day by complete and utter blind chance,
a sick and dying man came on scene.
He sat by the spring enjoying the warmth
drinking his fill from this special tranquil spring.

The water within was cold to the touch.
He waited several minutes and then drank again.
This happened over and over, again and again.
Looking at his hands and noticed a change.

Spring had reversed the autumn of his life.
Gone were the wrinkles on both his hands.
Filled with excitement, He arose to his feet.
Staring into the edge of the water pool.

Gone was the silver within his flowing hair.
Golden like the rays of the spring sun.
His blond locks were back on full display.
His haunted failing memory returned to the fore.

Suddenly he awoke from the dream he had.
He then realized that the fountain of youth,
was in fact not a fountain of youth.
Rather it was a spring of joyful recall.


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