It Will Be
By John Herlihy

Sometimes our desires fall short
of coming to fruition;
Reality has a way of intruding
on earth’s fragile tuition.
As children we entertain desires
like cotton candy
They just melt in our mouths,
feeling fine and dandy.
Puff, they are gone, but hey,
there is plenty of room for more,
Stuff them into a paper bag
as if they were in a penny candy store.
Desires turn into dreams
in vivid color just for the taking;
But the dreams descend and fall
like snow in the making,
Covering our hopeful illusions
in a frigid winter with icy crust
That splinter, crack open
and finally shatter into flakey dust.
Children are especially prone
to the misery of a broken heart,
When unhappy, they shed hot tears
that fall freely and break apart.
They are vulnerable; they are impatient,
they want to catch the wind;
But their dreams slip thru their fingers
and taste as bitter as orange rind.
Nothing is free in this world,
my mother said as I sat on her knee;
What will be, will be,
just wait patiently and you will see,
If it doesn’t happen,
It was not meant to be.