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Rating: 2.7
The child alone a poet is:
Spring and Fairyland are his.
Truth and Reason show but dim,
And all’s poetry with him.
Rhyme and music flow in plenty
For the lad of one-and-twenty,
But Spring for him is no more now
Than daisies to a munching cow;
Just a cheery pleasant season,
Daisy buds to live at ease on.
He’s forgotten how he smiled
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* Sunprincess * 09 August 2015
...very nice...love the theme of imagination ?
1 0 Reply
The transition from childhood to growing up and losing our imagination only to be given a second chance when we reach senility or learn to touch our inner child.My poem Daisies Bloom in Autumn's Wood captures a similar idea.
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