Bridget Pitt - writing & stuff
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some lesser spotted verse


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Picture
My mother gave us words

Mothers hand out many things
Marmite soldiers, baby swings
Fairy wands and painted wings
But my mother gave us words.

She brought them in, those travelling bards
Those alchemists of eloquence
To nightly pace our parquet flooring
Leaving stardust trails of words
That drifted through our sleep-tossed turning
Their drowsy syllables enthralling
With visions of some half glimpsed world
Far beyond our heart-stitched yearning

She denounced those words that blight,
Words that hang their heads in shame
Like prejudice, exploit, abuse
And cast out their shadow with the light
of words that glow with steady flame -
Respect, compassion, fortitude

My mother gave us words to fly
Our wings to spread, our fears to quell
To send us soaring through the sky -
And words to catch us, when we fell

Flamboyant words that never slept
But danced all night on moonlit streets
Giddy as a young girl’s heart
Small humble words that softly crept
And curled themselves beneath tired feet
With some quiet wisdom to impart

And silly words to make us smile
Sassy words to give us style
Sombre words to enfold our sorrow
Words of hope to raise tomorrow

Words to play with, words to plunder
Words to fill our minds with wonder
Words to free our headstrong dreams
Words to trail in mountain streams

Mothers give us many things
Healing balms to doctor stings
Lullabies and magic rings -
But my mother gave us
Words.  
         
                                                           

© Bridget Pitt


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