Lost childhood

'Mother_and_Child,_Volendam',_drypoint_with_hand-applied_watercolor_by_Charles_W._Bartlett

Take my hand and hold it tight
As you used to do when you were small
And trusted me to keep you safe
On the woodland path where the trees grow tall.
Take my hand and walk with me
To the place you loved where the long grass grows
And you’d thread your daisies ’neath the trees
Where the river glides and the west wind blows
Take my hand and talk to me
The child who prattled endlessly
But now is grown and forgets she knew
The song the moon sings to the sea.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

10 thoughts on “Lost childhood”

    1. Thank you Laine. It’s about my second daughter. She noticed everything when she was small, stars, faces, buildings, signs and she used to ask questions like where does the moon sleep, and what does she sing.

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