three poems Children are hard to understand.
By Bud Rue (© 1969)Children
They fear each other,
hurt their friends,
cry with pain,
run from embarrassment and
pretend they don't know you.
They love one another,
trust their friends,
cry with joy and
run with courage to
help you in need.
Children are hard to understand,
but they and we are one.
To Ann How long is the day
That begins at morn
With a newness so strange
As life newly born. The time it will take
To open the flower
Is not so important
As the end of the hour. We look at the flower once
Opened in bloom
And wonder how often
Our love will in tune. Why hasn't the rose
Begun yet to fade? It mellows in sunlight
And brightens in shade. Even at dusk
The rose is yet bright.
I wonder its beauty,
It's color delight. What will the end be?
Will we blend to one?
At this point I fear not,
And love everyone. How long is the day
That begins at morn
With a newness so strange
As love newly born.
Friends Friends are people.
Don't expect them to do,
to go,
to help,
or to show.
Friends are people.
Give them your love,
your hurt,
your fears,
and your dirt.
Friends are people.
Help them to give,
to cry,
to live,
and to die.
Friends are.
FAMILY WRITINGS
