Till They're Born Poem by George Samuel

In a book that never had a pen,
The mind of a child before she's ten:
When the flames are not kindle,
And the wish still and single,
Having spotless eyes without wrinkles..

In a path that had never known footprints,
Not a trace of stranger's boots,
Green from the roots,
Bearing all morning dews,
Whenever the day is new..

Like a tender tree bearing fruits,
Arrayed in flowers that are never bruised,
Refreshing without falling leaves,
Soft in the middle of the soil,
Nourish with life's sweet oil,

Pure candles without tripping wax,
Cradling from idle adults tax,
Standing in morning sun,
Set aside alone,
And finding a path to shine..