A Sonnet For Childhood Poem by DM W

O children like to play innocently
On the soft, golden seashore of endless worlds!
They laugh and swim freely in the deep blue seas
Of teeming possibilities. For them, words
Have not yet become restricted concepts that
Crucify their imaginations. They still
Look so keenly for life's hidden treasures at
The teeming centre of things. Green fields and hills,
Birds, trees and flowers seem to sing to them, and
Only them. Their rapt eyes can perceive all
Which we have forgotten, between sky and land;
All that we no longer wish to understand.
Alas, we're preoccupied with wordly demands.