Playtime
(ode to a
muse)
By Dawn Van Win
Here she
comes skipping up the path
She loves to
sing, she loves to laugh
The little
girl who comes to play
Can brighten
almost any day
Without a
worry or a care
And rainbow
smiles for all to share
As she finds the
toys I’ve placed
To see that
smile upon her face
But it is not
always thus
Sometimes I
fail to earn her trust
With long
delays between our dates
And saddened
by those fickle fates
Who pile up
things both large and small
To keep us
distant from it all
I try to
pause and catch my breath
And notice
feelings of neglect
Of that which
is most pure and true
And filled
with light of every hue
Returning to
our sacred space
I’m hopeful
that this child of Grace
Will once
again deign to return
And from her
I shall strive to learn
The lessons
only she can teach
Which are not
far, they are in reach
Inside of me
when full of joy
We play
together with our toys
Copyright Dawn Van Win
What a beautiful poem, Granddaughter I assume.
ReplyDeleteOf course it could be a secret friend that visits during periods of loneliness, but I feel not in this case. I love the picture too.
A ladybird and butterflies, I can hear observer's sighs.
Mmm Peter may be right but, I rather feel it's that fickle child 'inspiration' that you seek.
ReplyDeleteSome days she comes and every word falls into place
but when she doesn't you fall flat on your face.
To try to force her is a hopeless case...
Think you are right Len. A subtle poem which can be read in many ways.
ReplyDeleteI think of when my daughter was playing on the beach. A lovely poem Dawn
ReplyDelete