Like Children
Icy blue were his eyes;
Fingertips gentle and silken.
Soft, soft were his sighs.
We played the game like children.
Strong were his arms, shoulders wide.
He drew my trembling to him.
Eager lips were my guide
And we played the game like children.
I pulled away, a little aside,
Seeking my flavors to tell him.
With a silent touch to my lips, he denied;
We're playing the game like children.
I'll be the seeker, you be the hide.
We laugh with the bridge that falls down.
You be the farmer, I'll be your bride,
Who'll be the juggling clown?
He sang to himself in the garden outside.
His voice was a truly a treasure!
And once again, me doest he chide:
Ne'er g'ie name to your pleasure!
Icy blue are his eyes;
Fingertips golden and silken.
Over the years we together conspire
To play the game like children.
Copyright © Elizabeth Mccann | Year Posted 2022
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