Curator and the child

Me: the grass has been mowed well,
And the fences painted.

Also me: slide and roll on the green bed,
Chase butterflies, eat few snacks,
And colour the white fence.

ME again: creepers designed on sticks,
Billboards with what to do and what-not to placed,
And an eye on every trespasser.

Again me: bring down the creeper,
Dive and crawl into the grass,
Pluck some fruits and climb over the tree.

When the curator in me wants the ground to stay clean,
The child in me screams out to run mad.
In the whirlpool to contain professional curator and the child,
I let the curator win for living.