Poem By Ella Goodman
Life blossoms and it's childhood years they say,
So mild and vulnerable little ones when they smile in gay.
Knowing no worries, crying aloud, faltering at first steps,
Holding on to the finger tips walking in shaky gait.
Ages of man dissected by years,
From childhood to boyhood,
Manhood to old age.
We all thus migrate through the stages,
Donning the hat named by years.
Though often till the last breath of life,
The child in us ever lingers.
But brethren we are, measured and weighed,
Living a life as terms dictate,
Of outward show and mechanised feel,
That the child in us we hate to reveal.
But what's the shame to tame the child,
Purge the soul in tendered smiles,
In heart of child they say God reside,
The innocence and mirth fill all with light
So nurture the child that peeps in within,
Celebrate the youth of soul evergreen.
Childhood can never be marked by years,
For ever on we are child at heart.