A Child With The Wind In His Hair
by Paul Francis Mc Cann
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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With the world now in view heíll be looking for you ,
call him Darragh ,
the child in your eye .
Heís an innocent soul ,
with dreams for to hold ,
like a kite in a clear open sky .
Heíll soon catch on quick to what the click is ,
To whatís happening
and whatís going on .
Everything is all right ,
the future is bright in a world that lies waiting beyond .
Hey does anybody know where the wind goes ,you feel it and hear it and it goes .
Darragh do you know where does it go ,
After it blows through your hair .
Nobody knows .
The eye of a rover will win you over , like sunshine ,
through a cloud passing by .
Then towards the plains he will sail gently through the sky to a place where angels fly .
Between the plains where innocence flies through wide open skies ,
where Godís presence is there ,
and the angels like to roam ,
and the sun shines for the child with the wind in his hair .
For him this secret I share ,
No matter where we go we are innocent and free , like the child we must all one day realise and accept the way it has to be .
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|Reviewed by Southern Comfort
|Truly beautiful! It is so sad when the rose-colored glasses finally fall off and the child becomes the jaded adult. SC|
|Reviewed by Kathleen Donnelly (Reader)
|Dear Paul Francis, this poem reminded me of a wee poem that I used to say or rather shout it..... to one my wee ones when he was in the pram and the wind was blowing something fierce down from the Divis Mts. I wonder can you name the author:
Who has seen the wind
Neither you nor I
But when the trees bow down their heads
The wind is passing
Did we learn this in elementary school....or where?????
Your poem is beautiful, you surely have a lovely soul.
Kathleen from Beechmount
|Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
|Could see the handsome little boy flying that kite and being kissed by the wind gently blowing through his hair. What a beautiful piece!
|Reviewed by Barbara Smith
|Paul, I enjoyed this a lot...it brought back memories of when I was a child and tried to capture the wind in a jar. Where does the wind go? Who does it touch? Does it stay in a particular area for awhile and sail back to the area from which it came? All the questions I use to ask myself as a child. A poem for deep thinkers...like me!|
|Reviewed by Linda Hill
Excellent write and thought provoking. I enjoyed this very much.