it’s magic
when you’re only three
leaves change from green to
red and yellow flames
and caterpillars fall asleep
to awaken as butterflies
tiny black tadpoles swish
their tails through pond water
and slowly transform
into croaking frogs
until the school bell rings for you
the curtain is pulled down
and the wizard is exposed
whimsy dies and science takes its place
–
when you’re three
magic fills the air
changing leaves
butterflies
then science beckons to you
whimsy dies to facts
Farewell to Whimsy
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Ah the tragedy that we lose our innocence. But your poem is lovely.
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I liked this a lot – thank you
G:)
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oh, but thank you!
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I love this!
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thanks so much!
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Science is incidental in the wonder of magic. It will never hold all the answers.Lovely poem.
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So true! Thank you.
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Lovely but very sad write … I think we should try to find the magic again hidden in our inner child. š
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Absolutely! Thanks for your comment.
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