Sunday, January 23, 2011

Poetry Bus Poem - Connections



They are all grown up,
all three of them.
It seems so long ago now,
but I still remember them small,
squashed up little people,
tiny hands that gripped my fingers,
trusting eyes that never questioned,
a primal bond that followed from the womb,
pulsating through every part of me,
like a lioness protecting her own,
and breathing in the smell of them,
back to a time before language,
a ancient bond that never falters,
the sense of you and them and yours,
to watch and keep close,
until the end of time.


  1. How lovely this is: "trusting eyes that never questioned". I get the "breathing in the smell of them", my mother still does that to me :)

    PS: you have the coolest name for a blog. Always makes me start counting the kind of feet that would need 120 socks (people, insects, pets, you name it).

  2. A very moving and compelling poem. I like it very much.

  3. Jules, mothers will be mothers always! Glad you liked it Dave. Thanks guys.

  4. there's no telling how these things effect us...

    Love the sense of you and them and yours

    some beautiful moments throughout!

  5. Very beautifully done.

    On a more mundane level, wet nappies!?! Good Lord!

  6. I really like what you've written- and we do feel our connections in our gut, a most gripping
    pulse as you say ! thanks.

  7. Thanks Niamh, you too might be that crazy soon,
    Titus I know, Good Lord is right, but there you go, and Izzy, yes connections are made up of lots of things, all have value!

  8. Lovely poem.
    There's something about the smell of babies that draws us to them. Good thing, because if they relied on sound, the population would crash!

  9. I loved this ... I still enjoy burrowing my nose in the hollow of their necks ... and they are 50, 49, 48 and 43!!!

  10. Thanks Helen, it is good that some things in life never falters.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...