Open Poetry #49 |
The Ring |
Cari Member Posts 411 Englnand |
The Ring In a doorway she waits Never still, watching Wary eyes, schooled by the careless fist Grateful for the wraiths of London fog Cold sanctuary on a November morn ~ She holds the bundle of new life Close to milk dried breasts Smiles through the tears Croons to sleeping eyes ~ Lamplight soft through the railings She hurries across the square Lays the wicker basket close to the gate And kneels in prayer ~ Two gifts, a ring and the promise of life Nothing else to offer She stumbles into the fog Denying the agony of a backward look. ~ See now the little ring Aged by centuries Sniff your disapproval through the luxury of judgement. This poem was inspired by a visit to the museum on the site of the old Foundling Home in London for abandoned children set up as a charity in the 1700s. Where there is a long glass case containing the pitiful mementoes left by the mothers in the hope that they may one day return for their child, sadly very few did. |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
I love that last line, Cari. Reality. ~ If they give you ruled paper, write sideways. ~ |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
fine writing...james |
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Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
Wonderful poem. Background info was icing on the cake. ~L |
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