<<<~~~>>>
Child
of all our yesterdays, where have you gone?
Daughter
of pigtails, bright sun, and tricycles,
was it not
moments ago you called our names
and in the night,
we eased your fears, and all laughed
that something would dare
be so emboldened to
invade your place of dreams?
We lit a candle
and remained there by your side
fully knowing
there may soon come a time, perhaps,
when our cries
will disturb your peaceful slumbering
and we
shall need comfort, care, candles, and our dear
child.
<<<~~~>>>
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Author Notes
Jazzeree: New poetic form created by Starkat!
Syllable Count: 1,10,2,9,3,8,4,7,5,6,6,5,7,4,8,3,9,2,10,1
First and Last Words are the Same
Center Aligned
Please Note: My mother passed away this summer after a seven year battle with Parkinson's disease and dementia. Many times she was the "child," and I was the "parent." Throughout those many days, I often thought back to when as a youngster, I would awaken startled and fearful by nightmares of someone or something hiding in my bedroom's walk-in closet. More often than not, both of my parents would calm my fears and afterwards, we would laugh at how "silly" I had been to be afraid. I thought of those times often during my mother's illness - hoping and praying that I never thought her fears were silly - and that I did, indeed, provide her with comfort, care, and candlelight.....dk-t
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