A child's many paths knowing no set course
Four legs crawl and three slowly shuffle
Many birthed trails lie before a man's source
Kinder memories, light foot lad's verse
Silly song of youth, a nursery jumble
A child's many paths owned before setting course
Summer Sphinx in sand, you cannot immerse
Frolicking above dunes; loving to tumble
Racing trails in youth consume a man's source
Brown Fall leaves the seasons force
Down. Looking back, seeing my way, humble
A child picked this path, this man's present course
Not so bad really, worn but not worse
I kick brown leaves with legs less nimble
Fewer the trails going back to this man's source
Full throated devotion makes passion hoarse
Rose lipped maidens are never humble
As a child I had many paths, set only one course
How many trails are still left in this man's source?
With apologies to sticklers and Dylan Thomas
The Riddle of the Sphinx,
And a morning walk listening to a silly song I refuse to disclose.
Can you guess which it is? I betcha can't. double dog dare.