BUT FOR THE LOVE OF A CHILD

Precious though it is
 We take for granted
 The love a child has to give.
 
 We brush aside
 Their tiny hurts and bruises
 We do not see their quivering lips.
 
 Other things take over
 Adult worries multiply
 Till all the world seems at war.
 
 A child does see
 Much more than you and I
 For he can see the games we play.
 
 He understands
 When all seems blue
 That it really isn't so.
 
 A little pat
 A moistened smile,
 The sky turns blue again‚ and all is well.
 
 Crissouli  (c)