The Echoing Green

he shares his dream with his friends; the trees, birds, blooms and sea in shades of blue, red, green and brown he carries his dream from place to place always with a song a poem in his heart come rain or shine the breeze brings out his dream in strange ways splashes, splotches, points, dots, surrealism, inspiration trails his soul he lets go of his dream like a breeze amid the sparkles, glitters of the sea profusely, it flows, flows out of himself as he negotiates his ways through all his friends sharing their tales with the world in shades of blue, red, green and brown inspired by 'The Echoing Green' The sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring To welcome the spring. The skylark and thrush, The birds of the bush, Sing louder around, To the bells' cheerful sound, While our sports shall be seen On the echoing green. Old John with white hair Does laugh away care, Sitting under the oak, Among the old folk. They laugh at our play, And soon they all say: 'Such, such were the joys When we all, girls and boys, In our youth-time were seen On the echoing green.' Till the little ones weary No more can be merry; The sun does descend, And our sports have an end. Round the laps of their mother Many sisters and brothers, Like birds in their nest, Are ready for rest; And sport no more seen On the darkening green. - William Blake (1757-1827)