I enjoy quiet moments in the forest
where I can escape into flights of fancy.
But oh how I miss your butterfly kisses.
Your wide mouthed froggy kisses, and you.
And yet I know you are there.
I feel the warmth of your breath on the breeze,
hear your whispers in the soughing trees,
your footsteps soft in the leafy loam.
Giggles captured by the gurgling creek.
For a mere second a fleeting shadow –
close and yet distant, but comforting
in its presence flashes through my consciousness
like a bird on the wing. My flutterby.
My ephemeral boy.
But here you are, striding towards me
All grown up now – a man, strong, confident,
embracing life and love – taking chances.
You are my pride and joy. But oh how I miss
those butterfly kisses from my baby boy.
© Maureen Clifford, 2013
Image: By Annamaria Kiss (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
I have no idea why, but when I heard the sound of a child’s happy laughter at the end of your poem I found myself crying. Thinking back to my own children’s laughter and later my grandchildren’s, such a natural uninhibited joyous sound. I wondered when I, or they, last laughed with that same degree of careless abandon and happiness.