Thursday, February 15, 2018

A Child of Mine


Beau, Grandbaby

In lieu of recent events, you’ll forgive me if, instead of writing about short stories, I offer this short poem instead.


A Child of Mine

(excerpt)

I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for Me?

For all the joys Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him,
Much sooner than we've planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.


-- Edgar Albert Guest (1881 – 1959) 
This poem was first Published in a newspaper circa 1930, and reprinted in "Living The Years" 1949 publ. Chicago, Reilly & Lee Co. For the full poem, see here

Guest was a popular poet in the first half of the 20th century, often called the People’s Poet. He wrote over 11,000 poems, syndicated in over 300 newspapers and 20 book collections.


4 comments:

  1. Beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. Thanks for sharing.

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    2. Thank you, Darlene. The whole world is crying, it seems. Now begins all the back and forth of who’s to blame, and mental health, and policy and feckless politicians. The right to life vs the right to guns. The aberration that is the NRA. It seems to me if we remember the consequences of guns amuck, if we remember the children, and the grief that we will face, maybe – maybe, a big, big maybe – something will change.

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