I met my child within, 'Amy'.
We talked, we played, we engaged,
We looked each other's faces
for expressions.
We looked into each other's eyes
for emotions.
I had a lot to learn from Amy.
I saw a toy truck in sandpit, Amy saw a 'dooger dooger' bulldozer.
I saw a kid, Amy saw a person.
I was bound up in multiple layers, Amy was uni-dimensional.
I was a novel, Amy was a preface.
I tried to make fun, Amy was fun personified, gushing.
I was inventive, Amy was curious.
I was burdened by past, Amy lived in the moment.
I was grown up, Amy was ageless.
I was biased, Amy has never heard of it.
I was constrained, Amy was forever hopeful, free.
Amy and I rejoined, made up,
when I clasped
my hands together.
-
Author:
John Richard Anderson (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 1st, 2021 00:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments4
This immediately took me to thoughts of the pleasure of my grandchildrens company. Wonderful.
Thanks very much for your comment. Best Wishes
A nice read .Its a miracle how easily the old connect with the little ones
It is indeed a wonderful thing. To put it crudely, kids have no hang ups and oldies appreciate that.
Best Wishes
Beautiful read John!
WOW thanks for your kind words. Cheers
I loved the poem. Thanks for sharing.
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