THE PHOTOGRAPH

Endless ribbons of black and white~ballerina

Twirling softly; rocking to and fro~

How one young girl is mesmerized~

Where one woman deeply yearns to go.

Locks of soft golden silk, tussle through the air~

Of the same sweet, cherubic face; my kindred~

Round and round she dances without a care~

To this prophetic moment, only I am witness.

Brilliant sapphire eyes, lending light to us all as one~

She turns again completely, and my heart grows still at last~

Her laughter weaves quilts of passion, I wish to call my own~

Oh, how precious and dear to my heart, is the photograph.

I was there when you took your first breath of Life~

I was there when you took your first steps~

I was there to protect you, as only a child knows is right~

Our souls became intertwined, and we never had any regrets.

Gingerly I hold my photograph, mourning the loss of innocence ~

How intensely you dance, spinning to and fro~

All dressed up, until your hearts content~

My kindred spirit; anchor to my soul.

In my deepest sorrow the Angels wings spread wide~

Carrying me away from the pain and making me whole ~

Demoralizing betrayal severed our silken ties~

Forever changing the shape of my soul.

Now as I hold the photograph, I am there again~

Steeped in memory of a time gone by~

Watching her golden hair twirl and spin~

Benevolent, munificent, revered and sublime.

 

Written By Rayne Cullen

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