|Twenty-one emerges from a wood|
Wide-eyed and wandering in the morning sun.
Each thought lies stranded on an open field,
Nor can some loving parent's ardor shield
The soft white inner child from burning. Good
Years and bad alike the heart shall stun.
Only love, of hopes and memories spun,
Need and faith, and the strength to will and to yield,
Evokes once more the shade of childhood.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon