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Sunday, February 12, 2012
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From The Mouth Of Babes

A Lone Packaged
print, email or bookmark this page Print Version Email this article Bookmark site From Women In Transition,
A regular column by Clara B Freeman, Dec 26, 2007          Not rated (click to add your own rating)

Summary:
Sometimes words from the wise can come from the thoughts of the very young...such is this poem from my 13 year old granddaughter, Rae.
 

Small fist balled...loud screams fill the air. Little fumbling around...sudden dispair No one's there to hold, to calm, to comfort. Sad and lonely
eyes drip with fear
sad and hurt
Little stomachs growl for food...
But as the rains come
one man hears the little cries
rushes through the empty, smelly, breezy field to pick up small packages
takes them into warmth...
Raises them as his own...

Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays
God Bless The Children...




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