 When Evening Falls by Melanie McCranie Mansfield
Almost too quiet to be heard Socked feet tip-toeing down the hall Trying to catch a peek at what happens while his night-light flickers on A tiny eye Ever slowly inching into view Unblinking as it sweeps the room Curious to know the secrets of those whose shadows dance and voices drop unheard A foreign stillness Soaking in the sights and sounds Thinking he's unnoticed in the dark Longing to be a part of the after-time that lives and laughs when he's no longer there And they... They share a knowing smile that tells of times when peering eyes were theirs. |
Whirling Dervish by Melanie McCranie Mansfield Spinning with great intent But no particular path in mind Just trying to expel a little of the frustration That comes with not being understood. The dizziness that follows Is a welcome high as the line Between what's real and what's illusion Blurs into several carbon copies. And then he laughs... lies still... and begins again. |
Melanie Mansfield writes:
“I tend to write about what I know – and at least for the past 8 years, that's pretty much been children! The first poem above is about son Parker and his curiosity. The second is about son Peyton and his game of spinning in circles. I suppose this means I'll need to write one about my baby daughter Mabry now!”
and read more of her writing at USADS: Grammar Schmammer!
And another great one: Gifts Fit For A Mama!
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