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Meredith Dixon

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Member Since: Oct, 2005

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Featured Book
Simon the Snowman
by Jill Eisnaugle

Eight-year old Nicholas Wells is dealing with a dilemma. ..  
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The Wisp of Her Heart
by Meredith Dixon
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Meredith Dixon
•  The Final Crushing of a Child
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           >> View all 102

She stands trembling nervously
biting her lower lip
twisting a wisp of hair
with her free hand.

She stands alone bravely
reading her verses
practicing to be so very perfect
and so very honest.

Who can help this one so shy?
Who can stop the tears that start to glow and show in her eyes?
I clasp her to me and tell her not to worry so.

But she does know
that if she doesn't get it just so
no recess for the day
no time to play
in the warm sun tomorrow.

People say that a Mother is so powerful
all knowing and wise
but I stand trembling
with my heart in my throat
knowing I can only love her
and see this through to the end with her.

Why must there be so much pain
for one so young?
What is there to gain
to punish her for not remembering to remember?

Isn't there some kind of unwritten law?
Isn't there some kind of unspoken promise
between us adults?
The children are our future;
must we abuse them so?

So I wait and watch her
curling the tendril
that breaks off of her long, dark blonde
locks
and see that the devil mocks
us all.


He delights in our fall
but we will rise up again
to see it to the end
and beyond to the sun of the loving One.

Give her some room to breathe
Give her some room to grow
she has many seeds to sow
and fragrant flowers are waiting just for her to pick.

Run away quick
my dear little one
from the toil of this game
and the cruel ironies of Earthly fame.

It's time to be free
It's time to be loved
It's time to rest
It's time to come home to me.



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Reviewed by Felix Perry 2/23/2006
Beautiful and your love for your daughter glows like a warm candle flame in the night in this one.

Felix
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