To go back - if only

Time does fly, now does it not? And it also cheats, falsifies, transforms, betrays ever so easily. Even so I can still hear the laughter oh so distinctly, all those voices echoing in the rose garden, I can still see those people so effortlessly clear, so effortlessly dear then. And now having grown colder, shallower, less intense, I would naturally go back in an instant, of course I would, hoping for better judgement, for warmer, wiser heart.