Squeaky unoiled hinges Of swings in the park Sweaty breeze on the face Games in an idyllic noon A clang of metallic toy ponies Multi-hued flying frisbees Muddy barefoot squeals Merry-go-round treble Run and hide, hide and seek Playing till night descends Yes, freedom of innocence Long lost, yet dearly craved!
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Henry. E. Roscoe. Spectrum Analysis. London: MacMillan and Co, 1869 — Source.
I’ve got something in my pocket Tiny glass orbs Colors of the kaleidoscope Crinkly toffee wrappers A dried leaf A crumpled petal A rock so smooth A broken pencil A wish that the sun stays On the horizon, for a bit more So that childhood can play Just a tad longer
It will not hurt What you don’t know? Truth wrapped in muslin Pulsates gently Waiting to birth To sound the death knell Of sweet ignorance Blissful innocence As the soul soaks in Lies and tales Appeasing the mind But stealing the heart Of the pure joy of knowing!
Where the vine tangles Trumpet flowers grow in Peachy, blissful, innocence Sweet, balmy fragrance Covering a vast facade Of suffocating branches So in life, beauty captivates Even as breathless leaves Perish gently in the breeze
Find me the peace Of pure innocence Free me from shackles Let me sense miracles Unleash the inner child Conjour faces in a cloud Marvel at a shimmery bug Whisper to a tiny bird Play with a grass blade Count stars in night’s parade Let my soul revel in nature; A haven for every creature!