Play Poem by james watkin
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Thick in the freshness are you
And deep in the freeness.
Park's skittish herds; late heard for
Neighbourhood pen's distress.
Ought to be called denizens
Of worlds of sensation!
Of a dancer's is thrown out
Each limbed agitation.
Impulse of a sky beyond
This, a child's day arching.
Lived up to in modes of bliss.
In states of life-trusting.
Sunday, December 1, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: children
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2/10/2026 6:31:52 AM # 1.0.0
