Each book has a name
a title, a cover
a story on pages tucked in between.
Sometimes that story
draws on the past
or whispers of day dreams
as fact skips with wonder.
But there comes a day
as the ideas grow,
that I type at the front
of the book I am writing
a single word:
'dedication'
and then I pause.
For each book has a reason
a someone without whom
the heart of this story
would cease to exist.
There was once,
I could say,
two little girls.
One threw a paperweight
at the other one's head.
(I'll let you guess
which one was which)
But the force of that moment
it's forgiveness and friendship
and the years since melded by,
stained itself to the threads
of a story wrote later.
And before that book had a name
a title, or cover,
I typed 'dedication'
and I knew straight away which two little words would come next.
a title, a cover
a story on pages tucked in between.
Sometimes that story
draws on the past
or whispers of day dreams
as fact skips with wonder.
But there comes a day
as the ideas grow,
that I type at the front
of the book I am writing
a single word:
'dedication'
and then I pause.
For each book has a reason
a someone without whom
the heart of this story
would cease to exist.
There was once,
I could say,
two little girls.
One threw a paperweight
at the other one's head.
(I'll let you guess
which one was which)
But the force of that moment
it's forgiveness and friendship
and the years since melded by,
stained itself to the threads
of a story wrote later.
And before that book had a name
a title, or cover,
I typed 'dedication'
and I knew straight away which two little words would come next.