SomeWhere inside me, lost
In misty folds of time,
Soft falls the sound
Of a child’s anklet, tinkling, gently
On a distant Wind chime;
No form, yet child it be
Never to be free;
Some part of me remembers
An anklet’s tinkle, chiming
In the Wind of a willow tree;
No air has it breathed
Unblemished it be,
Some part of me Weeps
For that chlid, that
had no chance-
To feel & touch or
Ever be, part of me;
Oh! I hear the sound again
A child’s anklet, tinkling, gently
Somewhere inside me.
[Dated: Feb 17th,2005, Published in an anthology by Forward Press Ltd UKCopyright under my name Bradwaj Gobira]
Some part of me Weeps For that chlid, that had no chance- To feel & touch or Ever be, part of me; Oh! I hear the sound again A child’s anklet, tinkling, gently Somewhere inside me. i like these lines very much. writing poetry is a sort of inner purification, a catharsis. very nice thanku
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such sad memories that so many must carry around with them forever it must seem. You wrote it so well. Hugs, Marilyn