Grandad's little helper
'What's that?' You'd ask, watching our regular visitor as he perched on the fence.
'That's grandad's little helper. He comes to check we're okay.'
That red-breasted robin was yet to miss a day...
We could set our clocks to his schedule with confidence.
Your unspoilt mind failed to recognise the significance I battled hard to supress at the tidal barrier behind my tear ducts.
In good time I'd explain, when the right time came, and maybe fantasise it into a fairytale, injecting some magic into your naive mind before it's snatched.
My magic was lost, until you gave it back tenfold.
I wonder what happened to that red-breasted robin, because he had yet to miss a day. Until today.
Maybe grandad could see I no longer needed his little helper checking in on me.
One day I'll need grandad's helper to watch over you, with faith he won't miss a day until you're truly ready.
Comments
Hey J.P.!!....this was a very compelling read...... your use of poetic prose in this narrative form seems to come quite naturally to you and consequently it has a great flow and tone to it....... It is quite interesting how birds can be portents in life...... we have hummingbirds out back that visit everyday and so it made this that much more enjoyable for me!!.......ALL STARS!!...... well conceived and delivered dear poet brother!!........LOVE & ROCKETS!!!......T xo 🐧👍
Thank you my friend. Sometimes we attach magic to something which is more than likely unconnected, especially when we need it most. Our brains have the most beautiful defence mechanisms.