O Sweet Child Of Mine
============================


O sweet child of mine
These arms of mine
Still miss you
These breasts of mine
Still want to nurse you
These eyes of mine
Still want to see your sweet smile
These ears long to hear your baby sounds.

These hands of mine
Long to stroke your fuzzy little head once more
These fingers of mine
Still want to be clutched
In your little hand.

These legs of mine
Would carry me
Across the trackless wastes of hell
Were I to find you there
And should I melt into
Eternal flame
Still I would bring you home.

This mind of mine
Would search the cosmos
To capture your soul
And hold its wavering light
Between these two hands.

And then my tears
Would water you back into life
These arms would warm you once more
And with every breath I've yet to breathe
I'd bring the roses back into
Those pale cheeks.

And then at last
This shattered heart of mine would mend
If you could be
In these arms of mine again
O sweet child of mine.


* ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ *

For My Rhiannon.
You live still in some corner of my heart
Warm and alive.

From her Mother,
Pandora Diane Waldron---------------Tuesday, June 24, 1997

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Where You Rest
=======================

O when will I find the courage
To look upon the place
Where you rest
O my tiny love.

I cannot find it in the sun-brightness of day
I cannot find it in the cool moonlit night
When I believe in no one and nothing
And hope is something vanished into luminous space
While despair settles heavily over my body
With a grip that will not release me
Like a possessive lover.

Is Death then become my paramour?
A lover I cannot look at, did not ask for
Here always haunting me, taunting me
With the terrible knowledge that still I cannot face
You are THERE, down THERE
And every day
Your little body looking less and less
The sweet rosy baby I loved.

If I can look on that deep coral rose in my garden
That looks like your little flushed face
And if I can imagine myself
Placing it on your grave
Isn't that what you do
For someone you love
Then God, why can't I?

Why do the words
Catch in my throat
At the thought
Of asking to go
THERE
Where you rest.

One day I will
I promise you
O, I promise you
My tiny love
If only to wipe the smirk
Off the face of Death
Who still gazes at me
With possessive eyes.

Death thinks I am afraid
of his power
To destroy everything
And everyone
I love
And I am!
I am!
I am!

As the tears glow hot on my face again
I am a little ashamed
That I cannot get past this
Horror
I
I think
Soon, soon, I will take you that rose
My rosy, rosy child
Though the roses in your cheeks
Bloom no more.

O soon, soon
I will come to you
Though my heart is shattering
Into brittle fragments
Yes soon I will come
Where you rest.


Tuesday, July 1, 1997

It has been 3 months, 28 days since I lost you, Rhiannon Roxane. Let me count the hours and the days of my pain; how can they seem, already, so endless. Sweet be your rest, my tiny rose.

@)>~~~~~>>~~~~~~~~~~
This poem is also dedicated, with love, to Olof de Bont;
together, my friend, we will heal.


Pandora Diane Waldron

@)>~~~~~>>~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~<<~~~~~<(@

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