Wanda Daugherty Poet Rhyme

Two Little Babies

Two Little Babies

My poor heart was crushed and broken;
Into pieces long ago.
Though in time the pieces mended;
Two are missing, don't you know?

At the table two chairs set empty;
There's always too much dinner in the pot.
My life is formed in two divisions;
Who I have and who I do not.

Will they laugh and run to meet me?
When I cross that golden strand?
Will they fill my face with kisses?
Will they take me by the hand?

For you see I am their Momma;
And I have always faithful been.
Will they be so glad to meet me;
In that place that knows no sin?

I carried my children deep inside me.
In a place so near my heart.
Two are here and walk beside me.
Two to heaven did depart.

Years have passed they aren't forgotten;
They are real as you and me.
There are many things my Darling;
That are real we cannot see.

If I live a thousand summers;
I will never understand.
How can you help but love your Baby?
And tend it's needs as best you can?

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Rico Leffanta February 27, 2019 at 1:38 PM Well caught and scribed, Wanda! When a traditional Apache dies, his/her name is never spoken again lest the sound disturb them from focusing on their new life, (i.e., a reason happy, well-fed babies cry) but I find the departed endure in one's dreams for a lifetime, so you are never alone. Aloha! Rico