My five year old daughter
Bubbling with laughter
Sang to me a sweet song
In a long ago summer.
Fresh washed and brushed blonde hair,
A pair, of sparkling shoes
With unformed soul combined
To give this girl in new white top
And eagerness for lucid life
A twirling grace, that framed her
Face with silken hair, which spoke
Of innocence to win the race
By perfect form and fortune born
Of a pure and guiltless mind.
Remind me; despite my tender care,
That this fair and loving child
Was an embryonic wild and wanton woman,
Whose finite measured days of fun
The sun disdainfully allowed to run;
Whilst guileless beauty, golden, turning,
Passed the infant hours of learning
Unaware that time had planned
A moving of the hour hand,
To end the promise
Of this fresh faced start
In pain the coming rain would surely bring,
Filling these growing years with knowing tears
To slowly stain this new and true blessed heart,
And force this singer and her distant song,
A long; long way apart.
© James Rainsford 2010
Bubbling with laughter
Sang to me a sweet song
In a long ago summer.
Fresh washed and brushed blonde hair,
A pair, of sparkling shoes
With unformed soul combined
To give this girl in new white top
And eagerness for lucid life
A twirling grace, that framed her
Face with silken hair, which spoke
Of innocence to win the race
By perfect form and fortune born
Of a pure and guiltless mind.
Remind me; despite my tender care,
That this fair and loving child
Was an embryonic wild and wanton woman,
Whose finite measured days of fun
The sun disdainfully allowed to run;
Whilst guileless beauty, golden, turning,
Passed the infant hours of learning
Unaware that time had planned
A moving of the hour hand,
To end the promise
Of this fresh faced start
In pain the coming rain would surely bring,
Filling these growing years with knowing tears
To slowly stain this new and true blessed heart,
And force this singer and her distant song,
A long; long way apart.
© James Rainsford 2010
Wow this is fantastic! Glad that I can across your blog!
ReplyDeleteTo end the promise
ReplyDeleteOf this fresh faced start
In pain the coming rain would surely bring,
Filling these growing years with knowing tears
To slowly stain this new and true blessed heart..
love it, growing pain is hard to take, but it helps one become smarter and stronger.
o! life sure sometimes can erase a happy smile. this was sad. Enjoy the rally!
ReplyDeletehttp://lynnaima.wordpress.com/
Lovely flowing words and an excellent display of your feelings. Very enjoyable reading :)
ReplyDeleteIncredible emotion evoked in this one, James. So much sadness seeps between the words.
ReplyDeleteA++
ReplyDeletekeep it up.
nice- very nice sharing yet again! my potluck.. http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/remain/
ReplyDeleteAh, at last a poem of innocence -at least most of it - and the beautiful description of a child. Well written and a graceful flow.
ReplyDelete