A Playground

A wrinkled smile.

Savage & uncontrolled. Rumbling its way across dewy, puffed lips. An echo of warmth meandering the peaks & eddies in a stream of dreams. Across her playground. Her sandbox. Where castles are built with shovels & pails.

A placid peace obliterated in the calm caress of bubbling wake. A numb paralysis once run asunder lies stately now in humble fashion.

She sleeps.

She is loved

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

The innocence of childhood and its make believe world. I love watching my little grandson at play. It is so endearing. What a pity we have to grow up. He was playing in the sandpit and paddling pool last weekend. So happy he was, it was infectious.

Chris

[Ranger Kessel]

Thanks you very much for the read

[Red Brick Keshner]

A wonderful, gentle world expressed in vibrant verse. Thanks for sharing.

[Ranger Kessel]

Thanks for stopping by

[Red Brick Keshner]

And thank you for sharing your thoughts on mine.

[Aura]

This sounds so peaceful. A child playing I the sandbox, a beautiful day. Childhood is a time filled with imagination and creativity, the innocence is otherworldly at this stage in life. Lovely write.

[Ranger Kessel]

You are very kind

[keith]

sounds much like me ... except for the 'she' parts and 'puffed lips', mine are kinda weak
another well penned write

[Ranger Kessel]

Thanks for the read and jind words

[jacob erin-cilberto]

she is a beautiful child...
Children are so innocent, so loving...

their make believe world is much better than ours, the real one.
j.

[Ranger Kessel]

Thanks for the read and kind words