Short Breaths, Young And Old. Poem by James Smith

I tried the other day to move a toy on the Christmas tree
By blowing it from where I sat.
Old and feebly breathed I made a tiny piece of tinsel move,
Unobtrusively.
I was reminded of small children encouraged
With doubtful over enthusiasm
To puff, wildly and unfocused, with little effect at
Their cake's few candles,
Making dull and joyless the magic fiery confection
revealed
By kindly adult,
As just a sponge.
I see now with pain the little drama
The parents already moulding at this early age
To ensure the children fit,
Conform, be happy in a sad and faithless world.