He's not a child but he's childlike, he's not a grown up, he's not a kid, maybe he sounds like an elf on helium, we'll play with it.
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The point is to develop the childlike inclination for play and the childlike desire for recognition and to guide the child over to important fields for society. Such a school demands from the teacher that he be a kind of artist in his province.
Albert Einstein in Out of My Later Years
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song: Child's Play
Are accidents - reflections,
Of the chaotic quantum world;
Do the stars that rule the heavens,
Raise cosmic flags, unfurled?
Is love a constellation,
In the vacuum pack of cold;
A joyous distillation,
A yeast alive in mould?
It's child's play. It is child's play.
It has no creed but come what may.
We write the screed, it's all display:
On bended knee, for luck we pray.
It's child's play. A wild child's play.
We take no heed, but remain unswayed.
It's child's play. It is child's play.
When we learn that greed, is here to stay.
Is the background irradiation,
More a subset of decay;
Not dog-eat-dog predation,
But chance as child's play?
So that's OK. That's what we say.
When the meme of hate, sells well, it pays!
It's child's play. It is child's play,
When our dreams deflate, in a listless haze.
So that's OK. That's what we say.
We lean on fate, like a brand new day.
It's child's play. It is child's play,
When we learn too late, what's been swept away!
poem by Dave SmithWhite
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The Child In Me
I am a full-grown man
With a wife and children
A good job to do
Have all that I need
People think
I have lot of experience
To share with others
I give to them
What is expected from me?
But do not hide
The child in me
At times
I cry and laugh like him
Ask questions
As a child does
Play and behave like him
I know
Childhood cannot return
But the child in me
Takes me back
To the carefree
World of A child
No matter,
How old I become
I do not want
The child in me to die
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Our child once grown
What if my wife revealed that she was pregnant by me?
However, what if our child one day chose simply not to believe?
In nine months and eighteen years, I need to answer this question.
Nine months for God and my wife to give birth to the little one.
Eighteen year for us to train them in the way that they should go.
But, it is our child choice in whom to believe once grown and outside our front door.
At home, our child shall be instructed about the consequences of their sin.
Our child will understand the punishment of God for sin in the end.
I will train our child up in the Godly way that they should always go.
I will show them the love of the wonderful God I personally know.
Once grown, by us, our child shall be shown how to live life righteously.
Regardless in whom they believe, they will always be our child to me.
How would I feel if in spite of everything I taught and showed our child?
Our child decided, once grown, to take another way in life for a while.
Although taught while young not to steal; once grown they stole any way.
Although taught while young not to lie; once grown they lied every day.
Would I abandon them as quickly as the rest of the world?
Would they still be the prized apple of your heart and still be daddy’s little boy or girl?
Still, there is always a chance our child might choose in God not to believe.
If our child does, it is not because of the lack of the right instructions from me.
I will love our child even if by their life they chose not to follow God.
Because no matter what our child is an important part of my heart.
In who to continue to believe that major choice of life shall be their own.
But, they are still our child though they choose not to believe or act right once grown.
poem by Reginald Walker
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To Any Reader
As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Why Do Children Want To Grow
Why do Children
of now adays
Want to grow so fast
to look grown up
to think grown up
But still be a child at heart
I would live my childhood
OVER again just to be a child
to have pure heart
Pure minds, pure dreams
Instead of a childhood of distain
To play without a care
And see the magic of Mother Nature
And use imagination
To dance on rainbows
And white fluffy clouds
To play hide and seek
In the candy land of our dreams
To ride on unicorns
And sprinkle fair dust
To take a flight in
A midsummer dream
Why would children of today
Pass all this by
Just to be grown up
In a world like ours
Why lose the innocence
Of childhood sweet dreams
Just to rush into
The uncertainty of life
Why bypass your childhood
Just to be an adult of today
only to yearn the loss
of you childhood of yesterday
poem by Kaila George
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Color
Children don't see color in a human face.
All that they see is the human race.
Little child of brown
come let's swing around.
Little child of black
let's play piggy-back.
Little child of white
let's go fly a kite.
Little child of yellow
come share my marshmallow.
When you get all grown up,
I hope that you won; t change.
Can you remember all the fun
when our faces were not strange?
Innocence is fleeting.
All too soon it's lost.
Now we notice colors
and look what it has cost.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Old And Young
LONG ago, on a bright spring day,
I passed a little child at play;
And as I passed, in childish glee
She called to me, “Come and play with me!”
But my eyes were fixed on a far-off height
I was fain to climb before the night;
So, half-impatient, I answered, “Nay!
I am too old, too old to play.”
Long, long after, in Autumn time—
My limbs were grown too old to climb—
I passed a child on a pleasant lea,
And I called to her, “Come and play with me!”
But her eyes were fixed on a fairy-book;
And scarce she lifted a wondering look,
As with childish scorn she answered, “Nay!
I am too old, too old to play!”
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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THIS IS OUR WORLD! ! (SHOCKING n EXPLICIT)
Where a child lives in a warm mother's cocoon
Where a child is sold to the prostitutes, her life doomed
Where a father fiercely protects his child
Yet another father enters another's child
Where children play without any fear
Where men enter boys through the rear
Where a child gets a new toy every day
Where a child becomes a toy near the bay
Where a child is whooped up and twirled
Where a child is forced down and hurled
Where they go to fancy schools, sing and play
Where for a single meal, they sweat and labour all day
poem by Renu Rakheja
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Your Children Are Always Your Children
In your eye’s the child
never ends,
nor should it
Oh the limbs grow,
the body matures to adulthood
But in your eye’s and heart
the child remains
The laughter though a deeper tone
Still holds that
joyous golden ring
of Christmas presents
or a birthday game
The hair now full and Silky
Still holds the urge
to touch and stroke
The smile though older
still makes the heart leap
The body may be
tall and lithe and grown
But in your eyes the outline
of the child is still seen
Though they are grown and flown
Never does a day pass
without the same worry
how are they, where are they
though they may be grown
In your eyes the child never ends nor should it
poem by Bill Mitton
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You can be childlike without being childish. A child always wants to have fun. Ask yourself, ""Am I having fun?""
quote by Christopher Meloni
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For playing....
Child will
Play
The dog...
Dog also
Play
The child...
Dog tail
Catch and
Play
The child...
Very happy...
Pain again pain
With the dog...
Bite the child...
Unhappley...
The child was
Crying...
But...
Dog also crying...!
What...?
For playing....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Christmas Memories
So can you hear those softest sounds from out the snow filled sky
A jingling and as a jangling as Santa’s sleigh glides by?
So can you hear feel those joyous sounds as day replaces night
A present here a present there and children’s eyes so bright?
So do you think at Christmas time of when you were a child
When magic and your simple faith had your whole soul beguiled?
So when your children have grown up or maybe moved away
We should all rejoice with memories of those entrancing days.
poem by David Keig
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Bad funney
Child play
For dog...
Dog also
play for child
Child catch
The dog tail
And play...
Dog get angery
Wow wow
sounded...
Child dont miss
Catch and play
The tail...
Simply dog
Not bite
Run away
At home...
The dog was
Not funney
Chid is bad funney...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Like Helium Balloons
Before our very eyes…
Like helium balloons
Ideas imbued with passion rise
Like lead balloons
Bad ideas sink like a rock
Like Burst balloons
That fragment before one’s eyes
Like trial balloons
Ideas conceived, then undock
And float away
Like lover’s sighs…
Like helium balloons
before our very eyes…
poem by David Whalen
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The Child That I Am
Blue, Red and Yellow
Are primary colors.
The colors of childhood;
The colors of children.
I am soft and innocent and childlike-
Trying hard to be childlike;
Trying to be vulnerable again;
Unaffected, Unassuming.
There is a quiet, serious look in my face;
An ache in my heart.
I am alone in my sorrow,
Driven by fear
To be childlike, expressive,
Truthful and wise;
To recapture the essence of living;
Of playing in childhood dreams;
Aware of the wonders of nature;
Sensitive to Flowers and things;
Passive in my joy;
Beautiful in my art-
The art of recreating childhood.
(January 9,1991)
poem by Carole Moran
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I think you have to keep a childlike quality to play music or make a record.
Fiction is to the grown man what play is to the child; it is there that he changes the atmosphere and tenor of his life.
quote by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Up
Growing up,
isn't what I thought,
I wish I'd never been,
eager to grow up.
I was foolish,
I was young,
I wish I had,
slowed down.
I want my,
childhood back,
I want to go back,
and live young.
I truly wish,
I was a child again,
I could run with the wind,
and I could play all day.
Now that I'm,
all grown up,
it's all work,
and no play.
poem by Katherine Bryce
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Lifesong
to a child very young
life is
happiness and fun
to a child getting bigger
life and school
seem to be getting bitter
to a child growing up
life and love
seem to be getting mixed up
to a child fully grown
life is about
making choices on your own
to a child with a child
life is about
making sure there life isn't wild
to a child getting old
life is about
keeping your family out of the cold
to a child old and grey
life is about
remembering the past things you used to say
to a child dead and gone
life was about
your one lifesong
poem by No Reason To Care
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