A poem from a Mother in self isolation
The thunder of footsteps, a herd of elephants,
The familiar bedtime noise of giddiness.
An unfamiliar heart leap; unexpected,
Don’t burst through my door and become infected.
Breathless, relieved, my foot to the door,
I kneel and catch a breath on the floor.
My eyes drawn to the kaleidoscope,
Colours are moving through the keyhole.
The eldest runs past into the opposite room,
The youngest follows with hiccups and speed.
The giggles of childlike playing from children,
Right now is my only need.
In and out of the opposite room,
Up and down off the bed.
A hairbrush is thrown and the youngest runs away,
When he sees that the eldest sees red.
But it doesn’t last, its like he knows
His father doesn’t need more woes,
And the playing consumes with giggles galore,
As I spy through the keyhole, sat here on the floor.
And I beg for a glance of my middle child dear,
Because he is the one is whose eyes I saw fear.
And when I hear his voice, I will him to pass,
And he does, shower fresh baring his ass.
Their Daddy walks past and although he is stressed,
And shouting to the middle ‘Please just get dressed!’
He changes his tone, with immediate effect,
He remembers his role is to love and protect.
A glimpse through the keyhole,
of all I hold dear,
My heart could just burst,
You’re so far, but so near.
One minute I’m scared, the next I’m not,
And sheepishly praying to the Lord above,
To not have me knock on Heaven’s door,
But rather, slip through the Keyhole of Love…
The Thought Gatherer March 2020
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