And so the children danced by the seashore
At the break of dawn with
The sun not quite up,
But its radiance illuminating
The sky in a breath-taking
Blueish hue, that one could not
Distinguish from the tone of the
Infinite sea beyond the horizon.
They held each other's tiny hands,
Soft, for they were never
Exposed to the hardships of life.
Tender as silk with hopes and
Dreams of a brighter day.
The children jumped from puddle to puddle,
Splashing around the residue of yesterday's rain.
One girl with golden curls and a long
Sleeveless red dress danced around
In circles, stomping her feet in the water,
Her laugh sounding more like a squeak.
One boy with short brown hair and
Nothing but his underpants on
Leapt in the air arching his back
Wearing a glee-filled smile twinkling on his face.
The children heard a noise echoing
From afar;
They turned their heads to the source
Of the sound, and saw a bird in the distant.
"One, two, three, four birds!"
The girl counted on her petite fingers.
"Five, six, seven, eight birds!"
The boy yelled, showing off.
The birds got closer, but the children
Only knew how to count till ten.
They looked up with eyes and mouths wide open
As the huge metal birds roared past
With their giant wings and blasting sound.
The children froze with their hands
On their ears watching curiously as the birds began
To drop dark objects, hundreds of them.
The objects hit the ground where
The children stood, blowing away
All hopes of a better day.
O' the age of innocence is long lost.
She could've been an artist;
He could've found a scientist,
But greed got in the way,
For the fate of these innocent children
Lay in the palm of some fool's hand.
But dry your eyes my love,
For our children will hold hands at
That same spot someday, one day.
They will dance and splash,
Laugh with joy for there is hope.
There is hope in the resurrection of
The age of innocence.
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 7:34 PM UTC
And so the children danced by the seashore
At the break of dawn with
The sun not quite up,
But its radiance illuminating
The sky in a breath-taking
Blueish hue, that one could not
Distinguish from the tone of the
Infinite sea beyond the horizon.
They held each other's tiny hands,
Soft, for they were never
Exposed to the hardships of life.
Tender as silk with hopes and
Dreams of a brighter day.
The children jumped from puddle to puddle,
Splashing around the residue of yesterday's rain.
One girl with golden curls and a long
Sleeveless red dress danced around
In circles, stomping her feet in the water,
Her laugh sounding more like a squeak.
One boy with short brown hair and
Nothing but his underpants on
Leapt in the air arching his back
Wearing a glee-filled smile twinkling on his face.
The children heard a noise echoing
From afar;
They turned their heads to the source
Of the sound, and saw a bird in the distant.
"One, two, three, four birds!"
The girl counted on her petite fingers.
"Five, six, seven, eight birds!"
The boy yelled, showing off.
The birds got closer, but the children
Only knew how to count till ten.
They looked up with eyes and mouths wide open
As the huge metal birds roared past
With their giant wings and blasting sound.
The children froze with their hands
On their ears watching curiously as the birds began
To drop dark objects, hundreds of them.
The objects hit the ground where
The children stood, blowing away
All hopes of a better day.
O' the age of innocence is long lost.
She could've been an artist;
He could've found a scientist,
But greed got in the way,
For the fate of these innocent children
Lay in the palm of some fool's hand.
But dry your eyes my love,
For our children will hold hands at
That same spot someday, one day.
They will dance and splash,
Laugh with joy for there is hope.
There is hope in the resurrection of
The age of innocence.
This poem is dedicated to the children of Palestine who lost their lives before it began; there is hope... believe me, there is hope.
A. N. Gretly
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