why the look of disappointment?
honour this face of painted despair
with lessons taught. worship the frown.
let the bracelet of the neck
pour scorn upon the mangle of my smile;
let the children play
amongst the brambles of ample retreat
where apples fall from the eyes of the cheerful oak.
where scars of the tainted sky
drift away on the breeze of distempered trust
and enjoy the adolescence of my fake limp;
bounce outside the boundaries of control
trick or treat with the freckles of innocent minds
bring to the table of the tent
pixies of snow. pink balloons. a kitten for the chase;
jelly enough to pour scorn on the audience of my adult regret;
let the children of dance and song
drag me by the tail into realms of abundant gaiety
through walls of the ways of such serious intent
into the world of their own belonging.
let the children pave my way
through chocolate streets with lanterns of honeycomb light.
through halls of sugared almonds with goosebumps and raspberry eyes.
surely time has come to run away from the frowns of the clown
and enjoy instead the mischievous scrumping of plums;
let this adult play with the children of the smile
let him be the child he only dreamt he would ever be;