I love to lie upon the mossy grass,
and roll around the ground and flowers there,
and then I stopped and looked around the path,
as all my troubles died as did my cares.
I used to worry over silly things,
but now I understand that I was wrong.
I listen to the birds as they all sing;
I hadn't heard their notes for far too long.
So now I walk the earth with joy and glee
and all the thorns and weeds are clear ahead;
the stream has washed away my misery,
and now I understand the path I tread.
When hearts are mute with concrete and with walls,
you'll find a way to sing when nature calls.
*I've been teaching my two eldest children sonnets recently
and iambic pentameter. They wrote the bulk of this poem
with only a little help from Dad!