Hopes, dreams,
And butterfly kisses.
Fresh cookies, milk,
And shooting star wishes.

A loving embrace,
A fistful of flowers.
A colorful sunrise,
In the wee morning hours.

The songs in the trees,
A newly born kitten;
In the heart of each child,
There's a song that's unwritten.

It cries for the times,
When work becomes play.
It sings for the hope,
That love will fins a way.

It keeps memories alive,
Both the good and the bad.
It sings of the joy,
That I wish that I had.

It sings of innocence and truth,
Of freedom and love,
Of simplicity and light,
The soft song of a dove.

Easily stifled,
Easily drowned out,
So easy to forget,
What life is about.

In a world that's corrupt,
And wicked and wild,
Why can't we all,
Be more like the child?