There is a child

There it is
In that devilish smile
The taste of the mischievous
Just past the wrinkled brow
Under the dark aged eyes
A sparkle
A twink

Chasing butterflies and climbing trees
Inside a body long past forgiving such pleasures
One which creaks and cracks at the thought of movement
But even still
Beneath the age
There it is again
Flittering in the sunlight
A child that has never grown out of the simple joys

Other children can hear it
As the child calls to them
From behind the tree of responsibility
It matters not whether the place of hiding
Is middle aged and swamped with tasks
Or elderly and saddled with the fatigue
Of a lifetime of living

Somewhere
Inside
There is that child
Running and playing
Skipping stones
Laughing at nothing
Sharing the secrets of the world
Without fear

The Moon is cheese
There is Santa Claus
You really can fly
And love lasts
Forever

There it is
That child within
Believe

Ron Simpson, Jr.