 A baby running barefoot by D. H. Lawrence, read for LibriVox.org by Calm Dragon. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. Long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence, read for LibriVox.org by D. H. Lawrence. In Brampton, Ontario, September 2008, when the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot, read for LibriVox.org by Ernst Patinama. In 9-11, 2008, Amsterdam, the Netherlands. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Baby Running Barefoot, by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Joseph Finkberg. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Jane Greensmith of JaneGS.com. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Kawanchat Maja. In Izmir, Turkey, 2008. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in a cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Lucy Burgoyne. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water. And the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Rhonda Federman. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water, and the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Baby Running Barefoot by D. H. Lawrence. Read for LibriVox.org by Secrets. When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass, the little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind. They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water, and the sight of their white play among the grass is like a little robin's song. Winsome. Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower for a moment, and then away with a flutter of wings. I long for the baby to wander hither to me like a wind-shadow wandering over the water, so that she can stand on my knee with her little bare feet in my hands. Cool like syringa buds, firm and silken like pink young peony flowers. End of poem. This recording.