Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Stop growing up so darn fast

The father reading to his girl
some little tale they always read
is unaware that this may be
the last one that she'll ever need
she's grown past stories softly read
by daddy sitting on the bed.

The mother with her muddy son
kicking a football in the park
cannot sense as they wander home
through chilly, soft approaching dark
this was the last time they'd come out
to kick that happy ball about.

How secret sneaky-soft they come
those last times when we'll kiss it better
hold their hand across the road
or lift them up to post a letter
they pass unmarked, unnoticed for
we're not so needed anymore.

So the abandoned fairy tales and
nursery rhymes that mummy sings
leave behind soft toys and us
and put away their childish things
a loss so small, our loss the greater
un-missed, un-mourned until years later.

Lucy Berry


  1. Sob! That's sooooo beautiful, thanks for finding it and sharing :) x Love to you all x


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