By Shirley Skufca Hickman
When wisps of fear
encircle all my thoughts
and turn my thinking
into tears:
My husband gently
kisses me.
My small boy brings
blue candy to my bed
and tells me stories
of his school,
about the way he
makes his A’s,
about the magic
of the seeds in fruit.
And all my friends,
those whom I hold most dear,
bring poems to me, and flowers.
and I, so full of love
from them,
can find no room for sadness or despair.
When wisps of fear
encircle all my thoughts
and turn my thinking
into tears:
My husband gently
kisses me.
My small boy brings
blue candy to my bed
and tells me stories
of his school,
about the way he
makes his A’s,
about the magic
of the seeds in fruit.
And all my friends,
those whom I hold most dear,
bring poems to me, and flowers.
and I, so full of love
from them,
can find no room for sadness or despair.
| Copyright © 2021 by Shirley Skufca Hickman |
What a lovely rendition of beautiful memories!
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