Where are you, carefree childhood? Childhood dreams!
The memory of the golden childhood
D.Rumata
Where are you carefree childhood?
Where the sun as much gold
Where there is not cold,
Where we are all equal par with the grass,
Where his father was something we still alive …
Was still alive the spirit of the grass in the meadows,
And we were lying on her hands,
In the sky is blue, the sun and white,
We sought! Yes dreamed believed!
On the golden dew foals graze,
On the river water with milk grew,
Do not forget we have a nice time,
Do not forget we are – this is important!
Poured dawn meadows nekoshenym,
Lush cloud is pink mist
By silver grass horse float,
As a mirage in a desert ghost deception.
Dandelions Flower – golden suns
Dismiss the gentle rays of the morning,
Cerenady them sing gray Nightingales,
They dedicate poems clear streams.
Pugh Duhmjanyj aroma of herbs summer,
from his shoulders and take off the jacket, I will sit in the ant,
I do not recognize myself, forty-plus-a-year,
fate took me to my childhood reality.
Gossamer dewdrops on the grass of woven,
Like the wings of a dragonfly iridescent surface,
From my breath thrill cells.
Where, say, the best there is in the world of grace?
Yuri Soloviev
Shady garden, all forgotten,
Creaky old swing,
And a flock of timid sunlight,
Weaves tape linden branch.
Ahead, in the arms of birch,
In a transparent weightless silence
It is, as if lost in dreams,
Nondescript house in a light half asleep.
So familiar, dear heart since childhood,
With a green bench at the gate,
Where the constant happiness in the neighborhood,
Love and friendship faithful lives.
As I wanted to used again plunge
At that time, no sorrows and worries,
Where no trouble not to touch,
Where failure can not find the place.
But this time, will not return.
And the house of his childhood began to forget.
What a pity that year, as a ray of sunshine,
I never, unfortunately, did not catch.
Catherine Dunaeva
careless classes
Raced off, passed …
cozy embrace
Crosswise warm shawl …
Frost ”kulichiki”
”Pancake” of snow cover,
And screeching obscenely
For the redistribution of slides …
Jumping on May puddles,
Velosipedik calls.
The world is spinning carousel
And the legs all in green fodder …
Net of haze gauze,
Glass for the ”secret”
Heat, fishing, glow,
Night, the smell of summer …
Herbaria, collections,
Autumn cold,
And the mystery – ”Myths of Greece …”
And grief is not … as long as …
Olga Uvarkina
