Never Once Poem by Esther Leclerc

Never Once

Rating: 5.0

Silence or screams,
no in-between...
a hard place to grow,
with nothing to know
but rippling confusion

and the occasional contusion -
mostly around the heart.
There wasn't a part
of the girl's little life
that wasn't derived

from a woman and a man
who could not command
a bit of love or respect
from each other. They left
their offspring to find

a pilfered mine
of lazy regret - misshapen
truths, she sharply inhaled them.
Girls grow into women
with hopes well-limned

despite sorry upbringings,
never once feeling
a hand print of love.
One day a man stood above
her and said that he would

touch her in love but he could
not for he was diminished too
by his own demons, not a few...
So, her life leans with the wind
with yet a form of hope, much thinned.

(3.26.06 - - For you, Little Spirit...)

Uriah Hamilton 26 March 2006

How true...forces beyond our control create our sadness...well written, Queen Esther.

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Mary Nagy 26 March 2006

This is beautiful Esther! Too many children grown up like this little girl...I pray for them. Sincerely, Mary

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Sandra Erickson 26 March 2006

Esther- What an exquisite poem, poignant emotion well crafted into such eloquent sorrow, very, very sad...... Sandra

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Anna Russell 27 March 2006

Esther, this is amazing. You really are a master of so many styles. Hugs Anna xxx

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Jerry Hughes 27 March 2006

However Little Sprit is, this is a rare gift, treasure it.

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Craig Ewens 28 October 2006

Beautifully written; this happens so often, but always so sad.

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Robert Howard 16 August 2006

Against all odds, love and hope shine just as it does in this lovely poem. (=: CHEERS: =) Robert

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Utterly heart-rendering. You do tragedy superbly. And leave us wondering, indeed, of the well-being of 'Little Spirit', now? t x

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Alison Cassidy 30 July 2006

Oh Esther, Why haven't I discovered this one before? This is so sad. Written with sensitivity rather than sentimentality, it is all the more poignant for it. Poor little soul. The awful cyclical nature of neglect... One wonders what became of her? Thanks for sharing. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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Mary Naylor 05 April 2006

I very much felt your powerful poem. Too often, it seems to me, it's not the world we have to fight. Instead we must find ourselves and free ourselves from the emotional chains of the past. A well-written, well-crafted poem.

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Esther Leclerc

Esther Leclerc

20 min's from the beach
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