To the garden the children come
To imagine and bask in endless fun
Skipping, sliding and smiling
Thoughtless flower throwing, reclining
The Pixie Girl and the Soldier Boy
Fill my heart with immeasurable Joy
In the garden the children are learning
to run and chase glades in the morning
Their hands stained with ruptured grass
Sharing with each other a warm belly laugh
Building forts and discovering new sports
While making friends and new cohorts
In the garden the children play
Like romping fawns in the light of day
Swing, sing and shake apples from trees
Taking my hand--like Peter Pan--and teaching me new things
Poking bugs and picking up slugs
running back to give a big hug
-She bops along;that Rebel Soul, ready and willing to break every mould.
With eyes that gleam with mischievous wit, underneath it all deep compassion sits.
-He is cool and calm; that rugged man. Give him a problem; he's got a plan. Although he is resilient and serious, in his heart he is silly and curious.
In the garden the children believe inAll the fairies of the evening
In the dark they flicker and dash
Into the cold mud, their small toes they mash
And when it is time to say good night
I hope for them to hold tight
To the garden that they adore
While new adventures they explore
Thank you Kiersen for this beautiful poem. I will cherrish it always.