Till Even You Grow Strong … - Poem by Mark Heathcote
The night was young,
The day was old.
Or so I was told …
By the bough of an old, green oak.
“Climb up on my shoulders
I shall protect you.
From all base things below – you!
From their stagnant lower thoughts.
This I vow to you,
Till even you grow strong …
Climb up into my branches,
We two will play majhogg.
I shall give you
Two acorns …
And we shall laugh, stretch
Like two new-borns.
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