Golden
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Golden
Little Golden books,
from our childhood,
line the shelf which sits now lonely.
Their readers, all grown up,
and gone.
Tales of the tails of
puppy dogs,
and Ugly Ducklings.
The elves and the shoemaker,
and Frosty with his friends.
Peter Pan, and Alice
along with the palace of
The Princess and the Pea.
Our own children
have been neglected,
by us, who have been blessed.
We did not pass to them,
what was given freely to us.
We should have done better.
Put away the technology,
and reconnect to the heart,
of every person
both young,
and old.
Gather in the chair,
at the end of the stair...
where father sits.
Listen as he speaks the words,
to your favorite and mine.
Gather in the park,
where mama talks loud
with fascinating tones,
and even sings...
the songs,
of the Wildlings
from the book,
in her
hand.
Give imagination,
a chance,
to be reborn,
in the world.
Live in the reality of the now.
Choose to gain and not to give,
take back everything
and learn to live.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022
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