The Child

Cor blimey, was she sweet!
And stayed that way. That’s rare.
Most children are soon tired of their charm.

Constantly does this shielding change occur:
They grow up into dreary bores.
Beyond me why she didn’t.

Her body changed as much as they all do
And her mind also had to sharpen to survive;
However, she kept sweet. A miracle, if there is one.

Does not the nimble tadpole feed to morph
Into a squatting toad, while airy butterfly
In fact heads for another earthy worm?

Nature’s keen to take vengeance for conceded levity:
Does not experience afflict the childish joy
Before long bound to alter and alloy?

They are both helpless against stubborn graciousness.
The air she breathed was pure by luck and will
And in this vicious grave, must be so still.

September 19, 2023