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Penned With Love
by louis gander Back in a corner, where she hid, I met a little child, I did. She was a quiet, fragile child who never laughed and seldom smiled. Her eyes were blue, her hair light brown, but she was hurt and feeling down. Her clothes were tattered, filled with holes. like many people and their souls. I spied her tears when she had cried. I had not known her mother died. Her age was eight, or maybe nine. Her troubles seemed much more than mine. I knelt down close to her and said, "Have you a home? Have you been fed?" Despite the crowd that gathered 'round, our space was quiet - without sound. I reached deep down in pocket and I held your poem in my hand. I opened scrap of paper proud, then read your poem right out loud. My eyes became a fuzzy blur. I know you wrote it just for her. She reached for me with all her hurt. I hugged her back, ignoring dirt. Words can't replace a bed and food but fills with joy, the attitude. I haven't seen her for awhile, but know your poem made her smile. Though some write many, some write few. We've penned with love our words to view. So write your rhymes unselfishly with kindness, care and empathy. And don't be hurt when I'm away out sharing poems day to day. Much better than some silly toy, your words, for some, give real joy. Back in a corner, where she hid, I met a little child, I did... Copyright 2021 by louis gander. Poetry for sermons, story poems and more... If you love story poems, then you'll love ganderpoems.org / no ads, no sign-up, no tracking. Just free inspirational poetry. Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |