Sleep Sweet,
My Little one.
*
Sleep sound,
Close your eyes.
*
Let soft dreams,
Drift round you.
*
Like this song,
The only sound.
*
Drift away,
On a soft wind.
*
On the quiet ocean,
Glide.
*
With a peaceful heart,
Fall asleep.
*
And listen,
To the tide.
*
Into slumberous joy,
Let your heart slide.
*
Let it touch heaven,
Behind the rain.
*
So sleep sweet,
My tiny one.
*
Close your eyes,
And sleep sound.
If it were late,
And you were me,
I wonder...
Where the moon would be?
Would it dance across the sky...
Providing ballet for my eye?
Or would it hide amongst the clouds...
Running from the starry crowds?
If it were late,
And you were me,
I wonder...
Where the moon would be?
Would it ride the heavens high...
Enough to see the angels fly?
Or would it shoo the night away...
And brightly welcome dawning day?
If it were late,
And you were me,
I wonder...
Where the moon would be?
Would it sit on mountain high...
Rest, then sail on through the sky?
Or is it slipping in your dreams...
If so, we share our dreams, it seems!
If it were late,
And you were me,
I wonder...
Where the moon would be...
Dancing shards of moonlight,
Remind me that it's late.
The stars that peek amidst the clouds,
Are the great, wide galaxy's gate.
The snow is gently dropping,
From that sky above.
And lying in my bed at night,
I know I have enough.
Enough stars to fill eternity,
Enough snow to fill my soul.
Enough dreams to fill forever,
Enough hopes to keep when old.
The candle is dipping dimmer,
The dawn is rising up.
My heart is beating faster,
I feel like giving up.
But something keeps ahold of me,
And keeps my flame alight.
It's something deep inside of me,
And it's really burning bright.
Bright from a burning anger,
A message from an inner dove.
One day I'll be a shooting star,
Dashing across the great above.
(This Poem is dedicated to Niamh Chakravarty, your joy for this poem gave me the confidence to continue as a poet.)
The silent wind blows soft,
West, toward the sand-filled dunes.
The child stand there, facing the ocean,
In complete, absolute, stillness.
She is in her long, old-fashioned night-gown.
The tattered teddy-bear, held by the ear,
Hangs limply by her side.
The warm, sea-air tangles her long, and dusty hair.
Soft sand plays beneath her toes.
Dawn.
The sun shining, bright, rises slowly over the trawlers,
Floating in the sound harbour.
The stone of the town is far from her distance,
In the east.
So far away, she is almost invisible to them.
Only a tiny, unmoving white in their view.
No-one is sad.
No-one remembers her.
She sees the peaceful, velvet, blue.
It is calling to her,
Beckoning her,
With it's long, white fingers of frothy surf.
She sees the little town,
Once her home.
It...is...different now.
All buzz, and speed, and light.
It is no longer her home.
Behind her lies a beach of small, round pebbles,
Pure pink, and white and pale dove grey,
And from her ashen hand, she drops, another.
One tiny beauty, pink and white.
It is pure, and clean, with one bright stroke. One brilliant vein,
To symbolise the life that might have been.
She looks again at the ocean, deep, and cool.
No fear she feels.
She closes her eyes.
And, listens to the call of her ocean.
(Written aged 17.)
I love to swim.
I always have.
Waterbaby,
Was my nickname.
Now, however,
It takes a different turn.
Unexpected.
It teaches me now.
I'm weightless
In the water.
Relief,
Washes over me.
When I'm floating;
I regain the
Flower
Of my youth.
I'm again a girl,
With no pressure.
Free,
I'm innocent again.
Climbing out I cry.
The weight returns:
Crushing
Me like a petal.
I'm older now;
I bear the
Heaviness
Of being a mother.
The world was pure,
It didn't hurt,
Until;
My child took breath.
Then it was a place
Full of knives.
Sharp,
All out to hurt him.
I, his mother,
Must prevent his
Pain,
And rescue him before he falls.
But when I fail,
And I must, I
Hope
I will be there,
To wipe his tears,
To hold his
Hand;
When he bears fruit.
What is it like,
In your house,
In the morning?
Children dresses,
And breakfast eaten,
You rush out the door,
To your hectic meeting.
You juggle work,
And parenthood,
Keeping the pace,
With their childhood.
What is it like,
In your house,
In the morning?
Children bound.
No breakfast. Beaten.
You scream at them,
Until they're weeping.
You bully them,
In deformed parenthood.
You denyy them their right,
To have a childhood.
What is it like,
In your house,
In the morning?
How lives your child?
In joy,
Or in mourning?
If only, if only...
The clouds say to the sky,
I could in your chamber lie,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The stars cry to the moon,
You did not have to leave so soon,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The day calls to the night,
I could make your darkness bright,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, If only...
The cat yowls on the wall,
I need a friend to answer my call,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The lake whispers to the rain,
I want you to fill me up again,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The tree tells the hour,
I need help for my buds to flower,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The mouse squeaks at the trap,
I want the cheese, to be nice and fat,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The mountains shout to the field,
I need to be healed,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The air states to no-one,
I need to have a lot more fun,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
The child chirps to us all,
I wish I was twice as tall,
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
If only, if only...
I'm lonely, I'm lonely...
Peace,
Tranquilty,
Tidy,
Wrong.
My house is clean and quiet.
I have time for me!
Yet it seems
Not right.
Lonely,
Pain,
Missing,
Needing.
I yearn for him - my son.
I feel incomplete alone!
Desolate,
A mother abandoned.
Wanting,
Changing.
Yet, whenerver he returns,
I will want the silence.