A Fool's Wish

I wish I could be the kind of fool I was in the days of yore,
When people could send me on idiotic errands to the store.
When I found the purse tied to a string, and discovered the sugar was salt,
And tried to pick up the county line for jolly Uncle Walt.
For now I’m a fool of a different sort, a less desirable kind,
The fashion of fool that dabbles in stocks and leaves his earnings behind;
The fool that toils for a hunk of gold and misses the only wealth;
The fool that sells for the bubble of fame his happiness and health.
Yes, now you behold in me the fool, the melancholy fool
Who has to go back, with his temples gray, to the very primary school.
And learn the fundamentals of life, the simple, essential things.
The body that lives and the mind that and the soul that trusts and sings.
And would I could be the kind of fool I was in the olden days,
The fool that would fall for an open trick and be fooled in those innocent ways.
I would give the whole of my bank account and the worldly success I am,
If I could go to the kitchen door to look for the gooseberry jamb!