If I could
only be a child again;
I think of
all the things I’d do:
Tanned by
the sun, playing in the rain,
In summer hols
and on school days too.
Sneaking out
to the pond in the afternoon,
Throwing
skipping stones across the water;
Whistling to
myself a silly tune,
Making faces
at the neighbor’s daughter.
O if I could
only be a child once more,
To climb
that hill behind my house;
Come sliding
down till my trousers tore
And return home
to my mother's grouse.
I’d lie in
bed gazing at the ceiling
Devising plans
in my childish mind,
And fall
asleep with the comforting feeling
That today’s
cares are left behind.
If I could once more be a child,
I’d promise
to obey the golden rule:
I’d be good,
yea much less wild,
And a lot
kinder to some friends at school.
But I wouldn't
trade for any treasure
The thrill of childish prankishness,
And the
innocence of childish pleasure
In what
grownups may call foolishness.
Eric Anthony Trott
17th September 2014
17th September 2014
