This baby girl, precious tiny pearl,

Is the baby of my baby girl…

also so tiny and perfect

In her time,

Is the tickle in my throat,

The tear in my eye…

A memory backwards and forwards,

And I have no defence…

I have to cherish them both.

Just as I have always cherished the people

Who populate my soul.

But The despair is still burning,

Behind my eyes…

I choke back tears.

And try to concentrate

On their perfect form.

I scream in the darkness…

Is That It?


Dale beloved of ‘m’

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