PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Her hands were cold and wrinkled.

We sat together in the warm breeze

beneath the live oak trees.

She told me of far-away places

and what it is like to be wealthy.

She had been escorted by princes

and ambassadors, and had walzed

with kings.

Her family had traveled the world

just to find the proper school for

the poor little rich girl.



Her voice quivering, she became

someone else.

She didn't know her name, or mine.

She ranted that I was going to

poison her, and wouldn't drink

the tea; she wept over a broken

doll that wasn't there...



Continuing, she told me of her

extensive schooling, of museums,

and galleries.

"Always," she said, "always

maintain your dignity, my dear."



Last night I called each of my children

to tell them how much I love them.

I know that, beyond my sight, lie many

uncertainties.

I pray my greatest fears will never

invade my life, but, if they do,

I want my children to remember,

above all things, the love.