and post notes and photos about your poem like Paul Schneiter.
I wrote this poem when my Asperger's-afflicted granddaughter was six.
Some say you're not quite whole,
But I know better, Angel Child.
You live in a place all your own,
Free, unhinged, sometimes wild.
In precious moments you let me in
And I am stunned by what I see.
Purple trees and butterfly bees
And things I thought couldn't be.
You tell me of other wonders
In a voice so sweet I nearly weep—
Of Daisy Lou, a lizard that's blue,
And of mice that sing you to sleep.
Then abruptly your voice changes
And your look seems far away.
I have become a stranger to you;
You have said all you want to say.
I understand the pattern too well;
You have gone where I can't go.
You dwell there often, Angel Child,
It's where you're wholly whole.
Copyright © Paul Schneiter | Year Posted 2014
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