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.

2 comments:

  1. Mother's Day in the States and a week ago Sunday made for a lot of thinking about children. . this poem is so wonderful, full of truths about how we and they grow to see things so differently than when we were young. It's almost just that some attain returning to this state in our cycle of life as we grow old. *Love* the phrase "palatable the essence of delight, they busy in triviality's sight."
    Greetings from Astorga

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  2. Thank you Mary for this comment and your greeting.

    I am glad to have captured a little bit of the joy I saw in their faces that day only a week ago. Pic to add to post coming soon.

    Here is your first Hug. I give one for everyone who comments, because it is in the sharing of thoughts that I feel the essence of love is passed on.

    Have a great day in Astorga. xx

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