Her birth was long awaited,
This little girl called Shelley,
Who kicked and rolled and squirmed about,
Before departing mummy's belly,
But who, to tell the tale, gave one short wail,
As into the world she came,
Then, though greatly nudged and encouraged,
Never talked, nor uttered her name.
For eight years she grew up quite lovely,
Her blond hair it blew in the breeze,
Her sparkling blue eyes were ever so nice,
But she just made signs and wheezed!
Until one day a poem on a website,
Made her chuckle out loud with its jest
And fueled her slumbering imagination,
That had never been put to the test.
Twas the tale of a double-decker bus,
That Shelley first read on mum's lap,
That made her weep with delight, and chortle all night,
Leaving mother so thrilled that she clapped…
And encouraged by the poem's fun words,
That stirred Shelley's long dormant senses,
Mum leapt so high that, without seeming to try,
She sailed over two garden fences!
Well, Shelley was soon on a plane trip,
And, seeking to pass dragging time,
She took out that poem, and without her mum knowing,
Began diligently learning those lines.
And arriving next day at her classroom,
Such a heartening thing was soon seen,
Cos as Shelley reached into her school desk,
She prepared, with a smile, to come clean.
About how, all those years, she'd stayed silent,
While doctors and psychologists prayed,
That she'd finally please them and smilingly appease them,
By at last having something to say.
Well Shelley she took out her rhyme,
And recited so clearly and right,
To classmates and teachers alike,
The words that had so changed her life,
Words that described such a story,
Words that "sang" brightly in rhyme,
Words that made her gasp with their drama,
Words so enchantingly sublime.
Words that excited her mind,
Words that just wanted to play,
Words that asked Shelley to join them
Good Lord how she chattered away!
Well words soon became her great passion,
Words that she twisted and turned,
Til her own rhymes were read on the internet,
They journeyed all over the world.
Cos Shelley had soon learned to type them,
To present them herself on the screen,
To put them in emails, in letters, on postcards,
Wherever folk turned they were seen.
And I wonder where all this might lead,
If she'll quote from a book on a stage,
With audience in awe, magic words pouring forth,
And recall when she opened "first page"!
© Tony Elsby 06-08-2010 All rights reserved.
Comments about this poem (The Awakening by Tony Elsby (Poems of life and love) )
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