Please Tell Me

[javelin98]

You really won't get the poem unless you read it through to the end; please, do so.​

I held her hand tenderly
And looked at her face:
The picture of youth,
The essence of grace.

And on,
And on,
The day grew long.
I read her a poem;
I whispered a song.

Her hand tight in mine,
So cool, so pale;
I kissed it and stroked it,
So tender and frail.

I gazed at her, sleeping,
Buoyed by her peace,
White skin on white sheets
Eyes closed
In repose
Wrapped in slumber's release.

I watched out the window
At the uncaring sky,
At the white clouds, aloof,
Sailing lazily by.

But her hand -- Oh, her hand!
Sweet and soft, held in mine.
Thoughts of love
And of life
And of this girl of mine.

And on,
And on,
The day grew long.
And memory, sweet memory,
Sang me its song.

Swinging together at the park on that day,
Sunning ourselves on a beach far away,
Her laughter, bubbling over,
On my cheek her sweet kiss;
Losing ourselves in young, playful bliss.

But now the door opens,
And I'm with her once more,
And the cold, sterile lights
And the white tile floor.

I look, and it's him,
And my heart skips a beat,
My blood turns to ice
From my head to my feet.

I knew he would be here,
I knew that he'd come.
I'd dreaded it,
Hated it,
Feared it,
Berated it.

I clutched at her hand,
Squeezed it with fear,
But helpless, so helpless,
I watched him draw near.

I gave her forehead
One last tender kiss,
Then turned back to face him,
My hands clenched in fists.

He nodded, I nodded,
As I rose to my feet,
My heart cried "Fight! Run!
You still can retreat!"

But my girl needed me,
Needed someone to stand by;
So I nodded to him,
And I captured his eye.

I gulped in a breath
And my voice felt a quiver,
But my little girl needed
All the strength I could give her:

"Alright, please tell me,"
I told him straight out,
"And don't sugarcoat it!"
I tried not to shout.

"Please tell me...
"Please tell me...!
"Please tell me!"
I rattled,
And I hoped he'd forgive:

"Doctor, please tell me... dear God...

...will she live?"​

 

[Martin]

Poetry is usually not my thing, but I really enjoyed this - very, very good!

Cheers

 

[Irene Wilde]

You made me cry.

All the horror books and films that litter our contemporary landscape fail with me because their nightmare images are nothing more than carnival fun house techniques of cheap thrills done up with vivid, descriptive language or computer-generated special effects. Any parent knows what real fear is. Real fear is standing helpless while your child suffers.

When I greet my little one today, she'll be getting an extra hug. Your poem reminded me to do that. Thank you.

Irene Wilde

 

[bobbyburns]

irene, that was a potent response.

 

[Crystal]

It was difficult for me to breathe normally as i was reading those lines. when it finished, i stopped, then began to feel my heart squeezed by a hand.

It reminded me to cherish everyone that have come into my life!


Thank you for sharing!!
BEST wishes,

 

[warm_enema]

I enjoyed the poem, but...

I gazed at her, sleeping,
Buoyed by her peace,
White skin on white sheets
​

We do not need to know the color of skin. I find it slightly offensive.​

 

[Lyra]

I took it to mean white as in unhealthy. It follows on from :

Her hand tight in mine,
So cool, so pale;
I kissed it and stroked it,
So tender and frail.

 

[Ice]

We do not need to know the color of skin. I find it slightly offensive.

You must find many things in life offensive then