Thumbelina

Written by: Kristin Reynolds

Once held with love, by hands so small-
You’d hardly know that they were mine;
Her hair, a matted yellow mess
That sticks strait up, from hands and time,

The dress, Aunt Rose knit with gnarled hands,
Still ties up proper in the back,
It hides her scars; so much undone
While keeping dignity in tact,

One of her fingers’ is too short
When I was small, I bit it off;
Her neck’s been stretched from need and love
Which now I hide with velvet cloth,

Her eyes, the same sky blue as hers-
A mother ripped from life and earth-
Who passed away, leaving her child
One blue-eyed doll and no self worth…

Many a year flew by in time-
An adult with kids of my own-
When our house burned, consuming all,
From photos to refuge of home,

There came from ashes, hope reborn-
A beauty with eyes of sky blue,
Covered in suet, fire-scarred but safe,
The only thing that made it through!

A miracle or mothers hand,
That saved her from the fire's embrace?
To place her safe with honor, down
Atop the snow to cool her face,

This doll may look a ragged mess
To those whose tears she hasn't dried,
But when I look in those blue eyes
I see a child’s love, survived…

My Thumbelina, dread locked doll
No other friend could e’er replace
Her love; I love her battle scars,
Where memory lives upon her face…





2nd place winner in Karen Neary's TRASH or TREASURE contest , 5/2008