by Carol J Grace
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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February 2, 1975
Groundhog Day means different things to different people
For me, it was the day she became lost to me,
if not forever, at least for a long time to come.
She was the same age then that I am now--
Thirty-five years and her features are now mine,
her consciousness still living deep within my soul,
I carry her with me wherever I go--
I see her face clearly, her blue eyes bright
and peering into my thoughts, but her voice
gone for now, can't recall the sound--
Thirty-five years and counting, who knew
this much time would elapse, who knew I could
miss her this much?
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|Reviewed by Emile Tubiana
|Dear Carol, first, I feel sorry that I did not visit your den earlier. In this poem you express very nicely the goodness of your heart towards your friend that you met a long time ago. It is very nice to keep a friendship alive. I myself am still connected with friends of over sixty-five years, both alive and passed. I am always delighted to speak on the phone with those alive, although thousands of miles separate us, and remembering those who passed on. The latter always need our love and our prayers. Love Emile|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|A beautiful and meaningful tribute, Carol. Some people never leave us even if their physical presence is taken from us for the time being. Love and best wishes,
|Reviewed by L. Figgins
|I felt this way when I turned 51, Grace--the age my sister died of leukemia. Is this your mother? I interpreted it as such and a lump came to my throat--as my mother can't be long for this world. Will I remember her voice? So softly mournful...
|Reviewed by Edwin Hurdle
|This is very beautiful Carol.I enjoy it.take care|
|Reviewed by William Bonilla
|Outstanding write Carol
a beautiful tribute to a loved one
Love & Peace be with you Both
|Reviewed by J'nia Fowler
|Beautifully written. J'nia|
|Reviewed by Dawn Anderson
|Carol, I assume that this was written for your mom. Beautiful work that touches the heart.|
|Reviewed by Kate Burnside
|If this is about your mother, Carol, then it is sublimely beautiful and a true testimony of her legacy to you. We are ALWAYS who we are in relationship to our familys, no matter our age and circumstance. You are always her little girl and she your Mom. Your feelings are therefore very natural and on-going. But, as I'm finding myself, the beauty is that in many ways we BECOME them, in terms of how often we develop genetically and psychologically. I would never have believed this until experiencing it for myself. But day after day now I look in the mirror and in every way it is my mother staring back at me... even temperamentally I'm becoming like her. A lovely contemplation and outpouring. So bittersweet. Thank you. xx|
|Reviewed by C. McGovern-Bowen
|beautiful tribute, carol. lovingly tend her consciousness within and be at peace, poetess.
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|I am assuming these poems of late are not merely poems, but heartache within. I used to have people tell me for years and years to leave the past in the past. It took me a long time before I was able to do that. I wish for you that it doesn't take as long as it did for me.|
|Reviewed by Mary Lacey, Desertrat
your pain for missing this person comes through loud and strong. I don't know if it was a dear friend, family member, no matter, your words tell all. Very well done.
|Reviewed by Connie Faust
|Carol, this is a heart-touching poem. My Mom, too, is gone nearly 35 years. The thought of seeing her again is a comfort, and I think I will know her voice as soon as I hear it, even if we are not face-to-face. I'll turn and say, "Mom?" and give her the biggest hug! I recognize her in myself in a lot of ways, too.
I read a bit of your writing on the last site you listed on your bio page. (why can't I think of the name now?) It's a very nice site with great content!
|Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
|beautifully written--the sadness and longing well expressed|