BUBBLES
I watch her fly her bubbles in the backyard
Light and its lightness captured in spaces diaphanous
I drew a picture once, on a postcard
And held a thousand memories in a rosebud sensuous
She, is my grandchild, child of my son
He of my husband, this son of mine, one
So she lets fly her bubbles, this child of my heart
While i hold on to my memories, and we both revel in delight
BUBBLES © gillena cox 2016
You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites ( musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #44, ❧✿❧ ❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites
Sunday Mini-Challenge Flying From Orlando to Picasso
There are such sweet parallels here, and keeping hold of memories is very like keeping hold of these light diaphanous bubbles, there and fleeting and back again too. Very sweet poem, Gillena. k.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your appreciation K
DeleteMuch love...
I like the way each line unravels the story of family.
ReplyDeleteNice word pictures, Gillena. Good "been there" reading for all us grandparents. We have six and two greats.
ReplyDeleteWondering (I do 'wonder about more than just tall girls) if you read some E. E. Cummings before you wrote this. I did fir mine.
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I too, did follow the e e cummings. I did read some of them. Thanks for dropping in Jim
ReplyDeleteMuch love...
Such a sweet piece!
ReplyDeleteThanks De
Deletemuch love...
You and I share these lovely thoughts and emotions ....
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped in Helen
DeleteMuch love...
Such sweet memories are being made. It's wonderful when the different generations can spend time together like this.
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping in Rommy
DeleteMuch love...
Awe. I can see why she inspires such words...
ReplyDelete