1.0PoohsDenhttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsdenVinithahttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/author/pooh_admin/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="H7jqq47Lcm"><a href="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/y-youth/">Y: Youth</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/y-youth/embed/#?secret=H7jqq47Lcm" width="600" height="338" title="“Y: Youth” — PoohsDen" data-secret="H7jqq47Lcm" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> We are almost at the end of April and the challenge is almost over. Indulge me a bit and let me ramble. Let me glorify the past and seek solace in coloured memories. Let me feed my aching middle-aged soul with celebrations of youthful years gone by. I know I am still in my “youthful” years. But I feel older. I feel cynical. I see greys than pinks. Often I feel the need to exist than excitement. Somehow the youth lingers around. You just can’t run away from it I guess. In memory of the childhood gone by, a haiku Yellow Copper pod buds Blooms, dances, overwhelms senses Youth so odd and fun   Changing by the day The school bell peals loud laughter Youth awkward and loud   Move, Move, Run, Run Fast Sudden storms darken the sky Youth fleeing wet, slick   Laughter fills the air Unadulterated joy of youth Screams, shrieks, giggles   Personality grows Friendships and relationships Shaping youth, life.http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-acb5gyOlx6k/VMacr4E6u0I/AAAAAAAARMk/_S8_0rYGpHc/s1600/Y.jpg