The Pile Of Stones Poem by Paul Reed

You collected and made a pile of stones
And excitedly invited me outside
To view this gravelly incarnation
Which you looked upon with pride

This product of youthful imagination
Heaped rather sorrowfully in wind and rain
But to you it was a magic castle
For your eager mind to explain

To me, the hard-bitten adult
With no wonder left in my bones
Just the cares of carving a way forward
No time for those grubbed-up stones

But seeing your wondrous cairn now
After you have gone back home
Reminded me of your excitement
In building that stoney dome

And how I should have joined in
But for the ingrained woes of the day
And how I should have freed my mind
To let the adult play