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by Conrad Geller

What can I give you, children,
For your heart's content?
Badminton in summer,
A green and yellow tent,

A plot with grass to play on,
Elephants to view,
A gentle hill for coasting
All the winter through.

You were little then,
You loudly rode the swing,
Climbed on metal monsters
In the early spring,

Swam all July and August,
Found acorns in the park,
Waited, soft and cheerful,
In the long, unnatural dark..

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