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When Young Things Scream
 




THEIR basic shapes translucent in the light,
SOFT, blurred around the edges as I turn,
DYES of every spectrum colour bright,
HAVE a peek, perhaps sequences discern.
STEEPED well in childhood's fright'ning memories,
MY saddened days illumed by such a toy,
SOUL lightened within transient reveries.
IN young lives one should never dreams destroy.
COLOUR permeates my very being,
THAT flogging real but hey! A girl can dream.
WILL all the adults pass by, still unseeing,
NOT turn their heads away when young things scream.
PASS me my kaleidoscope please nurse,.
AWAY with nightmares, sometimes life is worse.


Quoting from Dorothea MacKellar,
Australian Poet.



BT solution: kaleidoscope








By cherryk

© 2018 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The BRAIN TEASE challenge-read page for rules, info, and word to UNSCRAMBLE (challenge has been closed)


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