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David Harris

Rookie - 903 Points (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

Little Seeds


The little seeds that were planted
within our childhood spring
make us what we are today
and sometimes make our words sing.
The little seeds that germinated
as years passed and we grew
while in our youth they budded
before our experiences made them flower.
The little seeds of our childhood spring
that blossomed in our adult summer
to radiate even more brightly
in our autumn years.

Submitted: Sunday, October 04, 2009
Edited: Monday, June 27, 2011

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  • Rookie - 0 Points Bob Blackwell (10/8/2009 1:23:00 PM)

    It is funny how our childhood lessons stay with us, in times of worry they make us think right. Lovely poem David had a nice flow. WArm regards my friend Bob 10++ (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 150 Points Patti Masterman (10/4/2009 5:33:00 PM)

    Yes, your words remind of so much. Sometimes I feel that little child still inside wake up, and tremble with joy because something so wonderful has happened. The little one still becomes very excited; while the adult seems to watch warily, from a distance, but also in enjoyment. Thanks for reminding how very important childhood will always be for us. (Report) Reply

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