Secrets

I sat and watched my sun kissed child

Tripping along in his own lithesome way,

Stroking the wind with fluid limbs;

The beach belonged to him that day.

Skimming the water and chasing a breeze

And gripping the string of a colourful kite,

A sudden gust whisked them up and away;

I watched them till they were out of sight.

With brown eyes wide and whispers, he told me

He and his kite had reached the sky

And I told him I had a secret too;

On that day my soul had learned to fly.

© Christine Magee


A Poet's Call

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