Easement

I watched from the porch of the old nursing home
Their games and informal plays,
And reveled in memories conjured up
Of my happy childhood days

It was the touch of her warm little hand
As she held the rose out to me,
That reminded me of my own child's touch
Caressing me tenderly

I longed to smooth the tangled curls,
To hold her close to me,
To tuck fairy kisses in her palm
For our mutual ecstasy

But she was off like a fleeting fawn
To join her friends in play
And I fervently hoped she would return
With a sweet smelling clover bouquet

The little girl came on another day,
Bringing cookies she had made
Of sand and water and raspberry caps,
We ate them-unafraid!

She was back again with comb and brush
To tame her windblown hair;
When she leaned on my lap with her story book
I was content in my answered prayer