I am such a child, green and unproud, Wanting to lie here and watch clouds; See them become huge people’s faces And traces form into beaches and streams, Living all sorts of happy waking dreams In those puffy forests above my eyes. The skies talk to me of love and cries That I should be happy here and stay Not run away, postpone for another day Decisions and ambitions and ideas To revel instead in what a joy this is; This Eden, this fairyland, this heaven.
I am not selfish in my desire, this fire, That joyhood; that girlhood and boyhood Will remain as strong, and as soothing Smoothing down the ruffles of time. It can’t be a punishable adult crime That we drift away, on some days And ignore the tooting of horns. They weren’t there when we were born. There were no parking tickets for us The school sent the big yellow bus We didn’t have to wait on the street Rain and snow on our heads and feet.
To me, it is a gift a wonder and a treat That we can give up our office seat And retreat to some park or sweet plain And once again go back to when this, Life as sky and earth, again gives birth To contentment and security for each And teaches that it’s not beyond reach. We can return to good places in our soul. That should be our own permanent goal. We can see the beauty of the country In our own county or our own village And celebrate the majesty of the image Of being under the clouds, carefree To make them what we want them to be.