Amy


She tenderly cradled her daughter of two years,
Amy, porcelain doll, pretty, blonde and chocolate face.
Wholesome blue eyes searched her mother’s soul.
She kissed Amy’s forehead. Floating in a special place.

A moving moonbeam tapestry surrounded the little boat,
As it gently bobbed. Amy was tired. Now droopy wholesome eyes.
She wrapped the shawl around her. Held her close to her breast.
Her daughter’s weariness roused her, as stars circled the skies.

Fragrances of approaching sleep saturated the damp air.
She gently laid Amy in a basket, rowed to the shore of the lake.
A slim attractive brunette, t shirt, cut off jeans, drove her Landrover,
Between a gauntlet of shadow trees. She was happy, alive, awake.

And Amy, beside her, skipped through fairy worlds. Bubble smiles.
Soon be home. Holiday home. Rented cabin. Kevin sleeping dreams weaved.
Put Amy to bed. A solitary brandy, star kids peeping with Mother Moon.
‘Twas the boat, the date, the time of night ……. that Amy was conceived.

And so they woke to a morning drizzle, no contest for the rising Sun.
Amy giggled as Mummy woke Daddy with a drink, held in a sunbeam.
She saw dust motes dancing, heard birds singing whilst they showered.
Then she saw a moonlit lake with butterflys – a momentary dream.

Alice said to Kevin, (who was rusty from a deep, deserving sleep),
‘I love you Kev my dearest, our wavering circles are at last complete.’
A wild sunbeam lit Amy, she stood, said, ‘Love you Mummy, love you Daddy.’
Kev said, ‘Climb in beside me, I’m sure we can be discreet.’

I used to skip through fairy worlds .

Now those were some beautiful days in my adventurous,giggly young girl life.


Thanks for taking me back a few years... if only for a moment or so .




Julie

You take us through so many story worlds with your poetry, Rusty - fairy worlds indeed! It sounds like the Alice in your poem is a very lucky young lady indeed, with a beautiful child and loving husband...

Lovely sojourn, Sir Rusty! Thanks!

Love and Hugs,

Alice