Monday, May 14, 2012

The Playhouse


The Playhouse


It is more than joy,
Brought about by weary hands.
Aching from labour of love,
To see their tiny eyes shine.

And how they glow,
Racing upstairs and below.
Full of zeal to find fun,
Riveted by simple pleasure now.

How glad am I for them,
To witness what we lose as men.
Palatable the essence of delight,
They busy in triviality’s sight.

And now the opening door,
Welcomes us into the house of fun.
A party, more for tea and scones,
Look how the tiny people run.....



For Bradley and Princess Sophie.