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A Baby Running Barefoot

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Written by David Herbert Lawrence

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 When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass
The little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind, 
They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water;
And the sight of their white play among the grass 
Is like a little robin’s song, winsome,
Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower
For a moment, then away with a flutter of wings.
I long for the baby to wander hither to me Like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, So that she can stand on my knee With her little bare feet in my hands, Cool like syringa buds, Firm and silken like pink young peony flowers.


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