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Their innocence, a gemstone of delight,
Irradiating sparkle on one’s face,
Disarming, putting woebegone to flight,
A veritable avenue of grace;
Untinted eyes perceive the extant world,
Evoking response in untainted mind,
As though it were ensign of truth unfurled,
With no intent in heart to be unkind;
Alas, the mores of culture infiltrate
Virginal thought and speech of little ones,
Instinctual honesty to dislocate,
Preventing them from being truthful scions.
Embedded in the deeper consciousness,
Resides the need to speak the truth, no less.
©Meanderings 2018
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Autumn Ambles 
Good morning Bushka…Once again you have nailed it:) I often look at little children and wonder at their innocence and beauty….and then as you say infiltration happens! Some family members from Seattle were here this weekend with their six year old son…who was absolutely lovely…and these very thoughts went through my mind. Hope you enjoy a lovely day and week ahead. Janet x
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Thanks Janet. Indeed, growing up is integral to Nature but unhelpful cultural, societal and other unhelpful influences deface nature, itself. 😳 Have a good week. Hugs. ❤️
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You to my friend. 🙂
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I now have five great-grandchildren (one in Melbourne I have yet to see)and their innocence and beauty is a renewal of their parents generation and their grandparents.
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Indeed Peter. One marvels at their innocence. 😳
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It’s almost as if we build up encrustations around the truth which we first grasped and spoke so clearly when we were children. A rather mournful sonnet this time, but finishing with that note of hope, that truth is a need. We can’t live our lives authentically without it – those who do seem to reside in a bubble of their own making.
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Thanks for your insightful comment Gill. May sound trite but ‘Truth will out’….. 😉 Hugs.
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Such a beautiful post and image. Ahh yes, those innocent babes.xxx
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Thanks D. Hugs
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