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To laugh, to dance, to sing, to play,
These things so fill a child's day.
So bright and eager are their eyes,
Their cloudless joy like bright blue skies.
In innocence they run and yell,
Unfettered joy like magic spell.
A carefree youth like roaring flame,
Consumes us all in childhood's game.
But soon enough the time does pass,
And like a lawn with browning grass,
Those blissful times so slowly ebb,
Until we're caught in life's cold web.
Then in the stillness of the night,
A flicker there, just out of sight,
Recalls the times when we were free,
To shed our masks and simply be.
Return with me to yester-year...
When childhood's tune awakes my ear,
So back, and back, and back I go,
To find what I've repressed, just so.
Those things that were so priceless then,
A frog, a bug, and bubble gum,
And friends who made a pact so true,
But that was long before we grew.
We did believe so easily,
What now strains our credulity.
And bread we ate in playful ways,
That built strong bodies in twelve ways.
When chocolate milk was such a treat,
Milkman drove on child-filled street,
Bringing goodies that brought him fame,
And sometimes joined our baseball game.
My aching joints and rheumy eyes,
Remind me of the many lies,
I tell to keep my youth around,
So they won't plant me in the ground.
And yet of youth I keep one thing,
When thought of it does make me sing,
A simple thing, I'm sure you'll see,
Yet one so very dear to me.
You'd think that it would age or wear,
Become so tattered that I'd not bear
To keep it out where all can see,
The gift my parents gave to me.
But come, please look, I'll share with you,
If you like, you can have some too.
My faith in Christ, so childlike,
God's gift renewed on Christmas night.
© 1999, Deacon Ed Faulk
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