Innocence has eyes
undimmed by doubt,
able to see what is impossible,
belief's tender orbs
always watching so intently for magic
where older gazes are blind.
Down the small trail her cherub face
danced in trust through the garden's scenery,
following the angel voice as always,
being the one which watches over her soul,
until coming to that special hearth of enchantment,
imagination's misty gold kissing her thoughts,
greeting a creature, one of countless seen before
that lived only in creativity's lair.
A place where a child sleeps
and heaven whispers possibility's dreams,
remembered by those who never truly grow up
living with youth's passions and joys
always beating within,
who go on to spread its charm
as poets, painters and the speakers of light.
God's love takes so many forms and shapes,
blessing in a variety of inspiration's inner songs ,
only heard by those willing to accept
the world is more than what a day reveals,
inside is held the key in hope's locket,
opening doors to places the Lord creates
for those whom He blesses with special sight
to embrace what others claim can never be.
Honorable mention
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