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COMICS & POEMS 2: Three, Poetry

Three

Mother, may I come and sit beside your weathered knee,
and listen while you tell the tale of when you were but three.

Mother, wave your magic wand and take me back with you
to yester-years and cloudless skies when life was bright and new.

Of penny candy in a jar and ice cream for a dime.
How grand it must have been back then, so long before my time.

Tell me of those stars so bright, in heavens far yet near.
How summer's sparrow sang his song with voice so sweet and clear.

Whisper of your courting days, and of that bashful beau,
who took your hand and held it tight, and never let it go.

Mother, may I come and sit beside your weathered knee.
And will you tell that other tale, the one when I was three.

So many years have passed since then, my memories have gone cold.
I can't remember how it was, before I got this old.

Now I have children of my own, who have no need of me,
And in my twilight years of life, there's no one at this knee.


--Written by Larry Zimmerman

This poem is featured in A Garden of Dreams, an Anthology of Poetry released by the International Library of Poetry in February 2002.

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