You Are Not Alone, Act One, Spring by Jill Sharon Kimmelman

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In a large house with hidden closets aplenty

where my precious children once played

you could enjoy hide and peek

turning yourselves “invisible”

during a jolly round of hide and seek

In closets like these

mingled cedar with dainty perfumes

you were Hansel and Gretel

hiding for imaginary reasons

behind each door stood boxes atop boxes

shoes tagged for each outfit

jewelry, color, heel height & seasons

You never knew how close you came

to all I secured in great secrecy—with care

excitement, nostalgia, perhaps a bright tear

a passionate celebration of what you would find

all of it simply awaiting you there

Two little girls joyous

making games so very merry

seeking refuge from that tall skinny witch

in black shoes, black hose, tall black hat

from a fairytale that promised no good fairies

That is where you shall find them

thousands upon thousands of my words

penned and locked away

my legacy

a bit lofty a name for what they are

nothing more after all

than notes from a mum you can barely recall

Written so long ago

your brother was but a babe at my breast

you girls were my dearest of treasures

young swans dancing, silken braids, matching ribbons

all remembered pleasures

a moment of grace giving thanks for God’s best

With each slim volume, before I began to write

I chose a color, a reason, a mood, a season

It mattered not a whit if skies

were dark and gray

where pears drooped on branches

heavy with fruit

those violet blossoms crystallized

trapped in amber like butterflies

When that glorious season permeated my being

I reached with both hands for pinks

pencils, charcoal sticks, paints and pens


Peonies, lilacs, champagne, blankets, roses,

so very much more

pinks for the daughters

I shall forever adore

For your very own daughters,

the little girls you named for me

who could imagine such a joy

a thing a heart can almost touch

but still can never see

Spring’s book must come first

Oh, I so hope it will turn out

that way for you

brave, brilliant, bold, the palest blush

a palette of pinks of every possible hue

Each crisp cream linen page

with splashes of Schiaparelli and Renoir

to honor the imagination

that has always soared within you

Jill Sharon Kimmelman’s recent collection of poetry You Are the Poem available on Amazon


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