The round face that I loved so well
lost in Nod's misty rivers
as I looked long by the railing
so utterly lost
in her
bowed serenely in larkish prayer.
The changeling was unaware-
slipping through time's filmy chaplet
wreathed by fireflies and melody
she fell
into inevitable chrysalis.
Baby's breath flickered
in that last exhale.
Furled smoke emerged
ocean-eyed
flutterby.
I wept to wet her wings.
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Author:
Heather T (
Offline) - Published: July 31st, 2017 13:00
- Comment from author about the poem: I pulled this one out of the archives. I was a wreck when my daughter turned five. At the time, she was the baby, her older brother was 9, and I didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'t think we would have another. Overwhelmed, I wrote this within a half hour of her making a birthday wish and blowing out the candles on her cake. Two years later, I was pregnant.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 92
- Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm.
Offline)
Comments6
No need for me to be giving you lessons dear Heather - this spontaneous verse reeks of vision and talent within every line. A pleasure to read your work my dear friend. A Favourte for me is this one.
You bless me, Fay. Thank you so much for kind replies. You encourage me!
'I wept to wet her wings', yes we parents do that, and then we weep again when they take flight. Every moment with a little on is to be cherished. Beautifully written Heather!
You are absolutely correct. Now she's in her senior year and we're preparing for college. Time, please be kind. Thank you, my friend!
An inspired piece of writing.
Thank you for commenting, Michael!
Just absolutely beautiful
Nothing more to say...
Aw, I appreciate it much!
Such an emotive write, so glad your miracle happened.
Thank you very much, Goldfinch!
Heather, unbelievable spontaneity! Gorgeous writing!
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