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by babes
Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #868163
being a child again
Down by a little shady brook
Sat a cricket with a solemn look
In the water clear and cool
Swam a fish who was no fool
A bird on a waving willow twig
Sang a song to a sleepy pig.
In the meadow red, red berries grew:
Overhead an eagle flew.
Climbing o're the old rail fence
Wild roses shed their fragrance.
Into the future my thots traveled fast.
As I sat on the bank mossy and green
I thot of the things I never had seen,
Wondering what there was in life for me.
And if the castles I built could ever be.
But as I sat thus in thot so deep
I never dreamed life's road could be so rough and steep
For my childhood then was happy and free
From the cares that would later come to me.
Oh give me back those childhood days
When I only dreamed and did not know life's ways.
Then I did not worry because I could not know
All the mysteries above and below
But was content for I was sure
That when I'd older grown and knew much more
I'd know it all and be so wise
I'd know no sorrow under the skies.
Oh little stream in the mountain wild
If I could only be thy child
And laugh and sing from morn till night
Free as an eagle in it's flight:
Carry gladness, scattering cheer
And brightening the earth from year to year:
Never fretting never crying
And never sorrowing because of someone dying:
Doing good tho far from the crowd
Where all is noisy harsh and loud.
Oh little stream if I was you
My childhood dreams would all come true
For then I'd miss all vise and sin
Yet do my part in the world to win
All things to beauty and to God

THE HEART THATS IN IDAHO
If sometimes my eyes have a foreward gleam
Its because I am traveling, I am not where I seem;
My heart's off in Idaho, I hear its long call,
The wonderlust's got me - I'm dreaming - that's all.

I'll trade you a subway, and that with delight
For a horse and a buggy and a ride in the moon-light.
My hearts sped to Idaho, I can all but hear
The cayottes wild call, which many might fear.

My ears catch the wild birds minor refrain.
And I feel the refreshment of a midsummers rain.
Oh this hearts off in Idaho and whistling a tune
To the jolt of the {can't make out this word!} wagon coming home at noon.

A man that's only camped in a small village inn
Has no conception of the great cities din
If his heart's once in Ida he's caught in a clutch
Of better than symphonies orchestras - much.

You can't know the joy in your cities blazoned pleasures
Of a lift in the country wich {with?} its hoard of great treasure;
Of sunshine and flower and natures run fountains.
Playing at will in Idaho's wild mountains.

Each spot is a storybook laden with tales
Of unconquered nature and wild animal trails.
And the heart that's once started on classics long track
Leaves part of itself, never wholly comes back.

So keep your land of the crowded east and central too
But give me Idaho in the west so new.
Where all is beauty, wild and free.
I'm going back to Idaho the only place f
or me.
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