Nursery Sonnet

⠀⠀⠀⠀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

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17 Responses to Nursery Sonnet

  1. Love the rhythm of poem, feels like drifting in clouds, very peacefully ~ nice

  2. Oh lovely, content and peaceful.
    Why can’t the entire world be like this for just a full minute?

  3. Kay Davies says:

    Softly and beautifully done.

  4. Helen Dehner says:

    Incredibly beautiful …..

  5. Sherry Marr says:

    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

  6. Margaret says:

    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.

  7. wanted to ty for liking my poem the other day, please know you are missed.

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