Playing in the rain by Ann Wood

Two children, playing barefoot in the rain ... carelessly following his rhythm
and the air smells of grass
fresh, freshly cut.
Two children chasing barefoot outside,
and the rain came softly to them
the targets are wet, but they are now
with the game are so busy.
They don't think like us about a thousand things,
live today, live for the moment
the laughter on their faces
it leaves a bright trail, and it shines brightly for a long time.
I look at my bare feet
racing, furious on the grass,
and how tiny drops, merry rain,
shines on the kids' hair ...
In fact, we are losing this freedom,
when we become dependent on our problems.
Then we stop and play in the rain
we get up - seriously boring and big.
But I don't want to lose that sweet rhythm,
of the barefoot-disheveled child -
I want the memory of him to live in me,
until my heart stops beating.

Poetry by Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-06-05 at 12:43

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You have penned a beauty,
The meaning is indeed pretty,
We get in our heart a cavity,
When we see kids' nobility,
We have lost that fine quality,
Our life is filled with duty,
At last it becomes a nullity,
Your poem talks about penalty,
We impose on us and we pity,
Nice poetry with perfect clarity!

arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
There is a strength to be had to keeping aflame that memory and feel of (being) children playing in the rain. Thanks for sharing.