Poem -

Liken

Liken

Sylvia
where wild flowers grow,
in the wind on the meadow
if you listen
you can hear her spirit sing
sweet honesty and  jasmin
babies breath murmouring .
But no one was there.
they all missed the happenings..
the hustling
of things that must never occur..
Gertrude the wicked witch of the East.. whipped
up something evil..
and you suffered..
she hurt you.. her and her brood..
you had no Ruby slippers
to take you home.
you had nothing
to call your own..
and we can cry at your leaving,
Sylvia.. but you left a legacy
for Child Protection..
to shout from the rooftops
without exception