Harold Therault Poet I do not know?

The Innocent

When you first see them
all wet and wrinkled.
Each day brings a new sight.
Just like the wet grass,
after a new sprinkle at night.

Each year brings joy and sorrow,
as they grow and learn.
The power that they have makes your heart smile or burn.

When you look at them in all of their glory,
they yearn for you to tell a story.
The sparkle in their eyes show they believe in you.
No matter what the tale.
Fact or fiction,
is the addiction.

The look on your children’s face,
while they are looking into space.
Will tell the story,
only they can see.

So enjoy that look on their innocent face,
while they are very small.
Because, as they get bigger,
and just as we had feared.
The look on their face,
will soon have disappeared.


Harold Therault
November,7, 2007

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