My friend Gail and I were sitting in my living room recently, talking and sharing poems, as we do, and looking at the mural hanging from the mantle that my nine-year-old granddaughter gave me two years ago, and I realized it deserved a poem. Here is a small section of the piece:
And here is the poem:
Mabel’s Mermaid
Once there was a girl child
who lived (sometimes) in
an enchanted, watery world
of visions and dreams and art.
One day, the girl learned that
her grandmother was very ill,
and so she brought to her
a smiling mermaid
with purple hair and tail,
swimming in an azure blue ocean
with yellow and coral-colored fish.
She swam alongside a sandy beach
laden with shells and other
treasures from the sea.
Every day, the ailing old woman
lay in her chair by the window,
her eyes drawn to the mermaid,
blue eyes shining back at her,
lavender hair streaming out
through the dancing waves.
She would return the mermaid’s smile,
her heart easing just a little bit.
After the grandmother recovered
and no longer spent all day languishing,
she kept the mermaid in her purview,
never tiring of the smiling face
that lifted her spirits, the precious gift
of her precious girl.
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