Dec. 19, 2017

Poem

Children make Christmas. This is especially true for me and my grandchildren. They have altered everything and become beacons for me. I feel so rich, grateful and delighted to be around them. So here are some words about them.

Besotted

They called him Harvey,
it’s not the same
as any label in the clan.

He grows into it though
becoming what that name
might look, feel and how

embraced, covered by its form
carrying and carried for a year
shaping and shaped into its norm.

Bright mind, wide smile, huge eyes,
feint tint of auburn top,
more kinks than curls the way it lies.

This bursting blasting strain
of endless moving child
deep ploughs the brain,

churns what is not him
until it recedes train into tunnel.
He is the desktop saver.


Walter

The baby has become a boy:
loud in shouts,
bright in smile,
infectious in laughter,
lively in walk, run and dance.
Engaged in the world,
with everybody in it.
Secure, sure, demanding
captivating in gaze
he reaches through your eyes
to the very depths of your toes.

Comments

Leo S

21.12.2017 13:37

Great, heartfelt, hymn of gratitude.
'to the depths of your toes' last well after the page is closed.
Joy to all!

Tom Dredge

20.12.2017 20:21

Two tender observations of childhood. Lovely. I particularly like
'he reaches through your eyes
to the very depths of your toes.'

Latest comments

25.11 | 22:15

Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.

07.11 | 11:14

Hi Peter,

A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there

Hugs,

John.x

06.11 | 16:24

A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.

06.11 | 15:59

Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.

In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.

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