Lilley
" A tiny flower, lent,
not given.
To bud on earth,
and bloom in heaven."
He was here for a while,
that tiny flower,
I watched him bloom.
A symbol of life,
in purest form
that fulfilled me.
And made me, me.
A small bud glistening
in a hazy shower.
Till Nature
In its cruellest form
blew him away.
And took him from me.
Leaving me empty.
Sometimes, I feel him
on the breeze,
his tiny fingers, caress me.
He sees the world
in a way that I cannot see.
Filled with innocence
and purity.
And not the daemons that we see.
Graham Sherwood
Tue 8th Sep 2009 15:45
Nicky this is a lovely personal observation about an incredibly difficult subject. The problem is no-one (no matter what they tell you) can appreciate your hurt when carving these words out.
I would have liked a little more grief, bitterness and why me in it, although you may not have wanted to show that side of your feelings.
The last line hints at it. It must have taken a lot to write this, well done. Keep writing it every now an again to see if it changes, even if you don't publish. Thank you for writing it.