We sat in the Garden Centre Café,
Drinking coffee and chatting,
When I glanced out the window.
And there was a toddler,
He was dressed in a fine hat,
A blue and white checked shirt,
And grey ‘grown up’ trousers.
He was looking all around him
With a look of awe on his face,
Pointing at things for his granddad to see,
A look of absolute wonderment about him.
This young lad, looking for answers,
To questions so pure.
The beginning of knowledge
To fill the fountain of youth,
So innocent in his quest for truth.
At what age does innocence leave?