Constance La France Poet Narrative

Inspiration Came Early

     I have to turn back the clock of time-  the pages of my life,
to when I was just a little girl who already knew all about death;
         it had left me shattered and I just decided not to speak,
I heard everything said to me but I was locked in a silent place.

     My parents took me to a doctor and he said, "she is traumatized."
You see, I had watched my sister die, her blood seeping into the street;
          and I became silent, soon I was sent to stay with Grandma,
and Grandpa on their farm, oh I loved my attic room and the animals.

     I would sit in that attic room and make up stories in my head,
for hours and hours, then one day Grandma came and sat on my bed;
         she gave me a journal and pen and said, "write your pain,
write it, dear one, write it all down!" And so I did from that day on.

     I wrote what I could not say and Grandma would read it out loud,
with tears she would hug me and encourage me to write each day;
          and thus a poet was born-  Grandma was always my inspiration,
she was the family storyteller and I would listen to her for hours.

     Mom would say," you know she has told that story a hundred times,
and it always changes, so don't believe it my dear!" But I did not care;
          then one day, I spoke, "mommy can I have more toast?"
I think Grandma and Mom just about fell off their kitchen chairs in shock.

     And I wrote and wrote- many a journal has been put on a shelve,
many a poem has been penned, and all because of my Grandma;
         at her funeral, I wrote the eulogy and stood trembling,
then a great breeze took my papers away- yet I spoke in a strong voice.

                               I believe in that moment, Grandma
                                  reached out her hand and gave me courage;
                                     and I have felt that hand reaching out many times.

_____________________________
December 24, 2016

Poetry/Narrative/Inspiration Came Early
Copyright Protected, ID 16-860-606-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

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CayCay Godwin January 2, 2017 at 2:25 AM You win. That's it. I know from reading you that most of this is definitely your true story, probably all and I just hadn't read of it before. This is special and your prose is beautiful, emotional, touching and so is the bond so eloquently and sincerely expressed between you and your beloved Grandmother. Your earth angel, the power of love is in this, just as it was in her ... All the best and, despite the mood, Happy New Year, Constance ... CayCay

David Smith December 25, 2016 at 5:33 AM Another inspiring write. Also suggests you are in a good place at present. My Prayers are with you at this time of year. Have posted another poem which I hope will give you a lift over the holidays. Regards David in NZ