My haziness of happiness

Haziness of happiness from my childhood treasuries..Oh if only I could relive those precious memories.. alas only an obfuscated opaqueness lies entangled in my mind.. tho I yearn for crystal clear visions, only obscureness do I find

A cloudiness of uncertainty as I plunge into my past, sixty years of photographic evidence is unclear aghast.. as I stare into my portraits from those bygone years, tho I know a camera does not lie I cannot hide my tears.. yes that little child standing there is me.. as I stand inbetween my siblings, I realise it has to be.. but I can’t remember being there, let alone posing for that shot.. did I actually look like that ? what a funny expression I’ve got

How I wish we had the chance to
re-enact a photograh, another crack of the whip at perfecting that crooked laugh..but one’s memoirs are unique, our one and only sui generis..a cherised, inestimable, mnemonic genisis.. so those recoiled recollections from when one was so small, locked away in photograph albums sat on dusty shelves in your hall.. is worth more than all the wealth in the entire world..one’s personal, priceless perception of your yesteryears to unfurld