The Book of This or Why Do You Have to Hurry So?

 

Why do you have to run and dance where green of youth is fleet

And dare the dust of innocence with eager, restless feet

Why do you rush my dear, beyond brushstrokes of Now and Here

Through sun sparkles on summer’s pond, you leap from childhood’s pier

Why do you have to tug at strings attached to hearts of They

More attuned to fine-feathered wings straining to fly away

Quite near enough, my lovely child, are morrow’s misted swells

Driving starry-eyed darlings wild with dreamland’s dinner bells

Why do you have to hurry so from worlds of girls and boys

You poise upon the ebb and flow of childhood’s carefree joys

Without a second thought of what will soon be borne away

While you are busy straining at a Big World held at bay

A feast of tears and laughter scatters while you grow and grow

A heaven-ness of happy chatter smiles, but you don’t know

That you are splashing through the brook of life’s most buoyant bliss

Why do you have to hurry so to close The Book of This?

...a cartwheel made of stardust and love's countless hugs and prayers

A petal-vault of wanderlust soon turned to creature cares

A gift we cannot treasure to the full of its extent

Until its outpoured measure makes us wonder where it went

© Janet Martin

Inspired in part by a girl who remarked yesterday

that she is not going to be a child forever!💖😘