Theresa Ann Moore
Children Playing - Poem by Theresa Ann Moore
A tired vacant house was aching for a splash of good.
A new family decided to move into the neighborhood.
It’s been a long time since I‘ve heard children playing…
Their voices are laughing and energetically displaying.
Now there is a reminder of when my kids were small.
They used to have fun in that same yard batting a ball.
Children gathered and became friends during past years.
Families moved away, leaving behind sadness and tears.
After their departure, the atmosphere just wasn’t the same.
We lost touch because we were all too busy. It was a shame.
The lives of former friends have gone in different directions.
Time and fate have taken images to a place of recollections.
Occasionally, we hear word of what has happened to a few.
Shane married; he and his pretty wife had a love that grew.
A freckle, faced boy named Rodney, was killed in a crash.
John was incarcerated, for doing something violent and rash.
The sounds of children are now a pleasure to hear once again.
The youthful noise is not a nuisance; it is the opposite of pain.
I love to listen to the carefree activities of unspoiled innocence.
Taking me to a time when a child’s enjoyment took precedence.
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