Childhood

Childhood the short arm with a long reach I’ve for centuries watched the sun sigh And put his blazing tools down up there But Childhood would still be somewhere nigh Bleeding his zestful blood without care Though with belly full of bouncy feeds Childhood is a fair soul full of sparks And just a seeker of some just needs He is a bearer of nobler marks But the hardest times would seem the best When Childhood would flounder to glory When he is caught in the toils of zest And Nature’s tests are put to story