Child's Space

I hear her in the early hours
playing Daddy's tapes
the ones he made when he was young
and yet to go someplace
but all absorbed in his own world
his voice, his dreams, his own
before he'd had a chance to make
them all come true -- alone

within his creativity--
a vision that would grow
can be discerned and what I hear
is now his very own
as listening and shaping hers
she sings along in time

to wonder that is his to pass
to her: pause, play, rewind



Poetry by ea
Read 879 times
Written on 2007-06-27 at 10:44

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