For Grace

For Grace

If this poem had sight,

It would bathe you in

A brilliant light

Like the harvest moon

Shining on the cool earth.

But poems don’t have sight.

If this poem could talk

It would play the

Music of your voice

Melodies in a scale of wonder

But poems don’t talk.

If this poem had touch

It would feel the

Downy softness of your hair

The silky warmth of your tiny hand

In my hand

But poems can’t have touch.

If this poem had smells,

It would waft the

Aroma of you,

The scent of love

And happy smiles and living.

But poems can’t have smells.

If poems could taste

It would savor the

Sweetness of your kisses

And the heartiness

Of your hugs.

But poems can’t have tastes.

Poems can’t see, hear, feel, taste or smell.

Poems are words

And words need readers.

One day you will read this, dear Grace,

And you will know how Mom-Mom loves you.


6 thoughts on “For Grace

  1. Wow, Diane! I love the scaffold and recognized it right away from the first chapter of The Winter Room by Gary Paulsen. It is so wonderful how you took his prose and created a poem for Grace. I have never thought of doing that, but I love that chapter, and so I will try it out, too. Weird how your poem is now a mentor text for me and The Winter Room was a mentor text for you – one that I know very well – but now I see more opportunities to imitate and write. Thanks so much! Love silky warmth, downy softness, scent of love, and heartiness of hugs!


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