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| A writers' group I enjoy from time to time posted this photograph as the prompt for our next gathering. There will be paragraphs and poems. This is mine. |
Ships aren’t made for the harbor,
nor are dolls made for the shelf.
Books must be opened to be
useful, cherished, or adored.
And swings must wait for children
to come running, climb on,
pumping legs and squealing
with delight until the ground
is but a distant memory,
blue skies overhead.
The harbor’s safety can be comforting,
especially in a storm, but there is little
sadder than a dusty doll, reminder
of another time,
when it might brighten
someone’s life again.
The pages of our lives will one day
turn, get past the prickly parts, and
find the happy ending from our dreams.
And like the swings, we wait in silence
and in stillness, ready to unleash the
perfect and potential energy we’ve let
build up beneath a blue and cloudless sky.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015
