Upon the Stream of Memory

In solitude's sweet company, 'neath sky's cerulean dome,
I wandered by a babbling brook, far from the madding throng.
The water's song, a lullaby, through whispering reeds did roam,
Where memories, like autumn leaves, to gentle currents throng.

**The leaves of yesteryear, they float**, atop the silver sheen,
Each one a moment's tender kiss, a joy forever green.
The sunlit days of innocence, the laughter freely sown,
Upon the stream of memory, in radiant splendor shown.

Yet 'neath the surface, soft and still, some leaves in shadow lie,
Their colors muted, edges blurred, beneath the water's sigh.
These are the sorrows, secret kept, the loves we once did know,
Submerged in depths of silent thought, where quieter waters flow.

Some leaves do cling to mossy stones, with resolute embrace,
They are the memories that shape the soul, that time cannot efface.
The lessons learned, the trials borne, the strength from hardship sprung,
These leaves, though worn, remain with us, to our spirits clung.

And there are leaves that drift away, to distant shores unknown,
The fleeting thoughts, the mundane days, into the ether blown.
For not all moments claim a leaf in memory's vast expanse,
Some slip into the stream of time, lost to the fickle dance.

As twilight paints the heavens with a soft and golden hue,
The stream of memory whispers of the old, embraces new.
In nature's tender manuscript, each leaf a story penned,
And in their quiet symphony, our hearts find peace in end.