Then they smile, dance and pass by.

But I know a better game than that.

I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.

I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with
laughter.

And no one in the world will know where we both are.




THE CHAMPA FLOWER


Supposing I became a champa flower, just for fun, and
grew on a branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with
laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know
me, mother?

You would call, "Baby, where are you?" and I should laugh to
myself and keep quite quiet.

I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.

When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you
walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the