The magpie children .

They are running flying their hands through the wind,
Catching the dandelion seeds in a delight for freedom.
Out of nursery rhyme books crawling
Back memories,
Voices of maidens high pitched ,dazzling,
If I could reach them now,
Slow time to the hour
When youth took my hand, recklessly,
And spun me in the air.
Now upon my bench they sit,
These quiet solemn children
Reading my message
Given with love.

Mary xxxx