Claudine Cerra Blevins
Mind Of A Child
In the backwoods of the country, roamed a child so long ago.
Dreaming dreams that only, a little child can know.
Like the birds and butterflies, pictures painted on their wings.
The beauty all around, stirred the heart, set it to sing.
Are the clouds all made of cotton, does God hold them in the sky.
Do the stars come out at night, only cause there's no more light.
Does the sun just chase the moon away, so there can be another day.
Or does the moon come out at night, only cause th