The Spirits’ Playground


In the soft dead of night

The children do sleep

And yet their own playground

Has plans still to keep.


The swings are now swaying

With a long gentle touch

The teeters are tottering

There’s movement so much.


The domain of the child

Is to play in the sun

In the moonlight the others

Its’ their time for fun.


Footprints in the sand

Forgotten by day

The spirits arise

Through the night now they play.


So the next time you rest

Through the long quiet night

Think of the souls

That play out of sight.


By the light of the moon

Look all around

They’re here yes you know that

In the Spirits’ Playground.



This poem was inspired by the photograph above.

I first saw it in a friend’s blog:

Check him out, you will not be disappointed.


6 thoughts on “The Spirits’ Playground

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