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The Web Poetry Corner

Brendan Mullen


Ottawa, ON, CA

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Brendan Mullen

A tiny grin crept across her face,
Her deep blue eyes reminded my of that place,
A place where immature voices echoed through the trees,
Where one's innocence is lost, carried off on a breeze,
Where the sounds of children seemed to play and dance,
All this she expressed in one solemn glance,
And as her hand caressed mine own,
And as the childish wind had blown,
I stole her heart and ran off to play,
For a man I have become,
But a boy I will always stay.