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Dream O Youth

Oh, Youth,
Through the half open door of years.
Behold the wraith-like imagery
Of present dreams and hopes and fears
That soon must be reality.
And Know
The present coins the future's gold;
The mint of time runs true;
If dross you place within the mould
A counterfeit returns to you.
Then Choose
To place naught but the purest ore,
Within life's crucible;
For when there's testing time no more
Alloy is inexcusable.
But Dream-
For dreams are not mere fallacies,
But stepping stones, forsooth;
Old age must have its memories,
So dreams are given youth.