The scientist in me began to assess the joyless reality of so many of my contemporaries. The poet in me began to lament the loss of such beauty. But the fool in me momentarily entertained the possibility that this joy is still present and accessible. Maybe there is still a dancing, hopping, skipping, twirling joy deep within this blurry man.
I quickly shook away the notion. That’s a ridiculous thought Doug, a childish thought. Only a silly little boy would think such things. At that thought, my heart leapt with joy!
Bravo!.. And thank you Doug.
We all have that child (that joy) inside, it's just some are embarrassed or ashamed by it and therefore never let him/her out to play.
children guessed (but only a few and down they forgot as up they grew. - ee cummings
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here's another. short, but oh so sweet.
http://www.break.com/index/tricked-on-halloween...
peace and welcome home.
We all have that child (that joy) inside, it's just some are embarrassed or ashamed by it and therefore never let him/her out to play.from the poem:anyone lived in a pretty how town