Nothing they do is done without exuberance.
Happy or sad they don’t get caught in ruminance.
It’s all full steam ahead for laughing or crying.
They know not of horizons & nought of dying.
They’re always here in the now; the sun or the gale.
They stand in either, eyes wide with laughter or wail.
They do not know any quit until felled by sand.
They both hurt & they heal with the same blameless hand.
Years will temper their freedom; but I hope not much.
May they not forget play to be serious & such.
For E & B
L.B.Stowe 