⠀⠀⠀⠀Around a keepsake bassinet, all is at rest
⠀⠀⠀⠀for Baby Iggy drifting off gently to sleep
⠀⠀⠀⠀in fields of flowers. From the mirror, I keep
⠀⠀⠀⠀watch like an angel over your little nest.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Of all the known noise, this one’s the best,
⠀⠀⠀⠀our nursery’s distant dreaming, softly deep
⠀⠀⠀⠀like endless skies that tranquil breezes sweep
⠀⠀⠀⠀of clouds, of storms, of anything distressed.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Curled up in pillows on the couch, Button purrs
⠀⠀⠀⠀contented to be in charge of our afternoon nap.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Over my shoulder, remembered in her choice blue
⠀⠀⠀⠀your mother joins my prayer with a song of hers.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Her peace settles into this unfinished scrap,
⠀⠀⠀⠀a poem. Her final words were meant for you.
prompted by Artistic Interpretations “Stillness, Silence, Solitude” with Margaret
at the imaginary garden with real toads
reflecting Frederick Carl Frieseke’s In the Nursery