Suddenly, Wisteriahurst
echos children's moments,
the age of a little child...
Caught in the memorablia
of wooden rocking horses,
rubber duckies, antique yo-yos,
Red-Rider wagons. Hear
the laughter of children,
the echo of tiny feet
running fast across
the grassy fields, playing
a lively game of stick-ball,
gliding past on a three-wheeled
bicycler with high, wire-wheels.
Hung on a wall, a painting
of a little boy in a sailor suit
with navy knickers, a little girl
with a pink, satin bow
in her hair wearing a long,
lacy, rose-pink dress
with a beguiling, pink sash.
See the notes of the past
wafting through the Museum walls.
Children forever immortalized,
childhood dreams found dancing
in starry wonder
down the dream-corridors
of every sugar-plum dream
that any child has ever dreamed.
