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the letter

she worked with her pencil and paper
while her mother did the ironing
it was common practise for the child
she ofttimes delighted in drawing
but today she didn’t sketch, she scribbled
precise loops forming between the lines
I’m writing a letter to Nana, she said
’cos I really miss her sometimes

her tiny tongue writhed around, in and out
of her pursed rosebud mouth
as she thought of the things that she wanted to say
then carefully wrote them all out
she must’ve had a whole lot to tell
for she’d soon filled up three foolscap pages
of beautiful Os neatly strung in a row
she focused on it for ages

she curled, round her finger, a golden blonde lock
and gently pulled at her hair
then for a while her deep sea-green eyes
stared vacantly into the air
the pencil was waved around and around
as she sat there contemplating
her shoes drummed the table in rhythmic tattoo
as she returned to her creation

she wriggled a bit, between lots of head scratching
and carefully looked over her letter
her cute freckled nose wrinkled up while her mind
decided if she could be neater
she gnawed a little on the end of the lead
holding the paper, she rocked to and fro
and then, with a shrug of her four year old shoulders
resolved it was ready to go

to the editor that is, for she slipped off her chair
and carried the missive to Mother
before we post it, I want to be sure
(but I don’t want to be a bother)
that Nana will understand what I’ve said
she quietly asked Mum’s deciphering
would you read it to me? I’m only little you see
I can only write reading, I can’t yet read writing
.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

This is such a lovely story, very descriptive, making it fun to read and visualize. It has the ahh factor because it's cute. I like the rhyme and meter and the ending is fab.

A great poem Judy :)

Thanks for sharing!

Love Mand xxxx

Lovely to see you
So glad you enjoyed this
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

This is absolutely very clever. I especially loved how you ended this. That last line in particular carried me a bit far where my now growing up kids used to say funny things that make me laugh for days ahead.
I envy your talent. This is a piece I indeed wanted to write. :(

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

That is the greatest compliment one could pay me
Love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

You created not just the image of the little girl but also each tiny detail you spun into this one including each suave moves and what she was thinking...this is a master piece crafted with so much ease...at one point of time while reading the poem ...the little girl you created seemed like little Judyanne and thought that your mom may have narrated to you those moments down her memory lane when she observed you and you put them into a poetic script.....who knows my wild guess could be spot on...was it? :)

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

My little sister
One of many funny family stories I have
My mother recounted many - in fact all my relations recounted many
And of course I have the ones I was witness too.....

Glad you enjoyed this
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

so my guess was not totally wrong....it was indeed your mother who narrated you that story which inspired you to write this one...did you show this poem to your sister? I am sure she would be thrilled to have this baby picture of hers...

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

from my childhood? Maybe we (me and my sisters) didn't do naughty things? I mean naughty enough to be remembered :(
I just wonder :)

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Don't feel disappointed because you can't recall your childhood or don't want to :) You may inquire with your parents and other elders who may have plenty to share...

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

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