Pastimes.

Have you seen the thrushes swinging on an apple tree in spring,
Have you listened to the rippling songs a waterfall can sing,
Have you gathered mushrooms, wet with dew in fields when autumn's nigh Or watched a sunset's glory as it lights the western sky?
Have you ever let a madcap wind blow all your cares away As you walked along a spray drenched shore upon a wild March day,
Have you ever gathered buttercups to rob them of their gold,
Or seen the scudding clouds in flight before the moon grows old?
Have you stood upon a hilltop just when leaves are turning brown And watched the white mist rising like a cloud above the town? There are many other pastimes,
very old, yet always new. But if you have done none of these I'm glad I am not you.

—Dorothy Donaldson.

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