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⠀⠀⠀⠀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. ⠀ |
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prompted by Artistic Interpretations “Stillness, Silence, Solitude” with Margaret
at the imaginary garden with real toads
reflecting Frederick Carl Frieseke’s In the Nursery
clarior e tenebris 
Love the rhythm of poem, feels like drifting in clouds, very peacefully ~ nice
With no rush, no set destination past the tops of the nearest trees and no set time for getting there, and a song running around in the breeze along the way. Thanks. ✒Cyn
Oh lovely, content and peaceful.
Why can’t the entire world be like this for just a full minute?
We probably couldn’t afford what they’d charge us for the luxury of such blessing. ✒Cyn
cute one:)
Yes, he is. 😊
Softly and beautifully done.
K
Thank you for reading and sharing. ✒Cyn
Incredibly beautiful …..
Yes, he is. 😊
This is so beautiful but I wondered – with the mother being “remembered” – and “her final words” – did that baby, sleeping deeply, lose his mother? I so hope not.
Iggy is a sweet wee preemie who will be five months old tomorrow. He lost his mother shortly after he was born, but will always carry her love with him. Denise and I moved south when I offered to help his daddy care for him, since Sara his mother would have done the same. The nursery painting included among this Real Toads prompt is dated, but otherwise not too very distant from a usual afternoon for me with Iggy. I’ve replaced the painting’s dog with Button, Sara’s cat. And I do frequently sing Iggy his mother’s last unfinished poem, which was rich with her love for him. ✒Cyn
Over my shoulder, remembered in her choice blue
⠀⠀⠀⠀your mother joins my prayer with a song of hers.
and “her final words were meant for your”… is quite the heartbreaker – yet at the same time a very soothing, comforting poem. Thank you.
Thank you for reading and sharing, especially for finding the peace in it. It’s not a tragedy, but a love poem. ✒Cyn
So sweet!!!
Yes, Iggy is! Smiles and hugs and kisses. ✒Cyn
wanted to ty for liking my poem the other day, please know you are missed.