Monday, March 21, 2016

I have been told that putting your feeling down on paper can be very therapeutic. Here is a poem I wrote.
My daughter's Seizure
Girl is playing, 
Happiness fills the day.
Mom is watching,
Always waiting for the thief to take it away.
The thief steals her joy,
He takes her time;
It’s all a ploy
For him to get his way.
Mom is no longer waiting, silence fills the air
The thief is here to steal the moment
To abduct her daughter into his deep, dark world.
Eye staring, glazing over, pupils dilating,
Body stiffing, shaking, trembling, thrashing all around
Mouth open, tongue shaking, drooling on the ground
Mom’s eyes are tearing, heart is racing, anxiety rising, labored breathing,
There’s no consoling.
Time is ticking away,
Slowly ticking,
Minutes turn into days
Gently stroking, whispering, kissing, she’s going to be okay.
Her body relaxing,
Her eyes sparking,
The thief withdraws his grip,
Seeping back into the darkness, until his unquenchable appetite strikes again.
Girl is playing,
Happiness fills the day,
Mom is watching
Always waiting for the thief to have his way.
~ by Wendy Buxton