Welcome Home

I've just returned from a wonderful visit in Portland, Oregon. Planning to share some of the great adventures we had, but as I unwind and get back into the swing of things at home, here's one to tide y'over. By one of my favorites, Max Ellison...

The Little People

Hopes,
Fears,
Smiles,
Tears,
And short happy years;
These belong to the little people
Because only they are free
From all the grown up inhibition
That has trapped us.

Only the little people
Have seen me clear enough
To memorize my ways,
Earning the right to laugh at me
Because together we are not afraid,
And they have become;
The purest happiness I have known.

Tiny minds,
Sensing hurt and happy
       deeper...
Than big people.
And a tear or two
That lasts only long enough
To make a path on a dirty face,
Because your grown up hand
Works miracles
And tears of fear
Become toys of joy
In the eyes of the little people.
And I am jealous,
Because I no longer have growing pains
To remind me of the little people inside.


From "Double Take- A Collection of Poems by Max Ellison." Published by CONWAY HOUSE, Conway, Michigan, 1973.