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My thoughts are of
Beneath the sky above,
A child (boy or girl)
Laying upon the grass;

Whose thoughts are provoked
Beneath a mighty oak,
by a tale (tall or true)
Printed upon worn pages;

Who imagines a world
Within a world,
A universe (odd or even)
Whilst resting upon elbows;

So in this child’s head
Beyond the chapters read,
A story (old or new)
Will live outside its binding

That child, one day
Will look away,
And age (fast or slow)
Forgetting to be a child

As my thoughts are only
Beneath a moon so lonely,
Just thoughts (more or less)
Rattling around my skull;

Whose path is fading
Within the inundating,
Of the world (big and small)
Sifting through information;

It’s hard to think
Lest we breathe or blink,
These days (trend or fad)
Of how we were once carefree;

I sometimes wish to be
Beneath a grand oak tree,
With a book (thick or thin)
Again, as a child lost in wonder

©2015 Brandon Hildreth


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