Monday, September 20, 2010

Air
(childern's poem)

Of the windmills and the chimes,
of all the things that move by thy might
It' s only you, I cannot see
But do me a favour when you are free
Come and play with my hair
Touch my face with thy loving care

Make the sun, seem a little cold
Take that tree in thy gripping hold

Touch my palms and my little soles
Tickle them till, I laugh and roll

Lift the leaf off its feet
Let me see, what it’s like beneath

Give me a push as I run
Sweep my body, for some fun
Make those ripples in the pond
but we can't be here for too long

Then when we are done playing around
Dry my clothes, before mom comes around

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