I dreamt of tiny footprints in the sand I dreamt of hugs performed by teeny hands I dreamt of laughter that melts hearts that hear it I dreamt of eyes that see colours I haven't seen yet I dreamt of tears that could be stopped by my presence I dreamt of seeing your joyous effervescence I dreamt of reading stories about fairies I dreamt of tired bundle being carried I dreamt of looks by which I will be charmed I dreamt of you sleeping in my arms
With long ash blonde hair freckles dotting my face and shoulders rosy lips and cheeks from the sun I am a young girl again Laying on the Atlantic ocean shore my back pressing into the soft sand Letting the waves roll over me laughing hysterically as the salt water tickles my tummy and I plug my nose
It was at this age I smiled cheek to cheek without worrying about the layout of my teeth I didn’t consider myself lonely I had quite a lot of fun with my imagination Not yet the age where I was preoccupied with image or my emotions Just living like the waves crashing over me
This is a real dram I had, I think about it all the time.
i’d really love to thank her for being so, so strong. for not taking our life when everything was wrong. i don’t know how she did it, the flashbacks paralyze me still. must have been nothing less than strength of will. even sometimes now i’d really like to back out but i hear that small girl screaming, “we can’t just give up now!”
Radio news bulletin in the car the last item read in those mellifluous tones is about a seven-year-old boy struck and killed by a car in a poor suburb of Wellington.
The protocol around the legal and privacy issues means it’s “no name, no pack drill”, but he was someone, someone’s son, grandson perhaps even great-grandson. He had probably had siblings, definitely friends and playmates.
Somewhere in a house with inadequate winter heating, where the household income is constantly under siege and life never rises above a struggle, there is a mother and a father who bear this greatest grief.
Andrew M. Bell
The poet acknowledges "The Typewriter", the online literary journal in which this poem was first published.
You always have my heart in your heart Don’t be scared if we sometimes have to be apart I’m always with you in your eyes and your smile In your feet and your toes In your ears In your soul I’ve loved you even before I knew you When you were just forming inside I’ll love you forever ‘til I’m no longer I’ll love you beyond space and time You have my heart with you always You are never alone Smile when you think of me, my love I will always be your home