I'm sure this doesn't take a lot of understanding! Sometimes, when I look embarrassingly at the way we humans 'carry on', I go back to the 'basics' as described herein.


Upon Our Dreams

Upon our dreams ride the little ones…

Wide dark pools of innocence for eyes,

Their cheeks given by the softest cherubim,

And mouths that know only the sweetest of fruit.



All are born like this…



Upon desire are they created…

The greatest gift to start afresh, new,

A slate wiped clean of trash, untried, untainted,

With minds that know only the truest thought.



Gifts born from our bliss…



Upon our care are they cossetted…

Wrapped in our arms, held tight in our hands,

Showered with our love, swamped with our indulgence,

They take what we give with absolute trust.



That love should persist…



Upon our moments of frenzy…

When we endeavour to provide, to give.

To tuck away for the later unknown hours,

They stare, wide eyed, taught by our ignorance.




Reality missed…




Upon the tide of retribution…

When the atmosphere is asthmatic…

And the forests stripped, soil shaved and laid bare,

Burgers and buns stuffed in their tiny mouths.



All are killed like this!



© griffonner 2021




Poetry by Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 118 times
Written on 2021-12-08 at 14:57

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
For me, my saddest moments as a parent came the first time one of my kids cried, not from physical discomfort, the way that babies do, but from a psychological wound, cruelty, betrayal, something like that. Those tears marked the beginning of the end of innocence, expulsion from Eden, I guess you could say. Nobody gets to go back.
2021-12-08


AFRODITE STATHI The PoetBay support member heart!
This is magical!! Bravo!!!Loved reading it!!!
2021-12-08


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
I, too, like to go back to basics, find what's natural to our nature, so I appreciate your poem.

These lines make me a little sad, though, because not all babies will ever know what you've described:

"Upon our care are they cosseted…

Wrapped in our arms, held tight in our hands,

Showered with our love, swamped with our indulgence,

They take what we give with absolute trust."


Still, this is a meaningful poem. Thank you for sharing.
2021-12-08