Ideal, to be a child at heart.
Delighted. Lighthearted.
Venturing seas uncharted.
Winsome and wondrous, wide-eyed at play.
But was it? Or did naivety betray?
Ensnared in shackles naught to see,
Did childhood make thee victim be?
Dependent, hidden, cast to shame—
Retracting, writhing in self-blame?
A child, who knew not whom to fear
And no one cared to wipe your tear?
And now, in fully grown estate,
With childhood memories to abate
Doth kick at stones and keep at bay
The very One who could relay
A message deep, of joyous grace
Of freedom, kindness, face to face.
Return to Love, oh child within—
Sorrowed, grieved, let truth begin.
Comfort waits, and healing balm,
Reconstruction, peace and calm.
The child again may joyous be,
Fore’er to rein with dignity.
-Joan T. Warren
—for those who wished to play but couldn’t--for Scrooges and Players and Hard-asses, with love.