I want to turn the clock back … to before you went away,
To get the chance to tell you, and beg of you to stay.
I want to turn the clock, to face against the wall
To hope that the sickle, this time, fails to fall.
I would cradle your tiny body and together we would sleep,
Beneath a comfy blanket with booties on your feet.
You would recognise me by the noises that I make,
The songs I’d be singing while I baked for you a cake.
The house would fill with laughter as I introduced to you,
A sister and two brothers, who would be in love with you.
They’d fight to let me hold you, and smother you in love,
You would have fitted in this family, like a hand into a glove.
But clocks don’t go backwards, time refuses to stand still,
Mothers can’t make it happen, we haven’t got free will.
If we did, we would have held you and never let you go,
But you got taken to a corner, of time we’ve yet to know.
The sun keeps on shining, as does the falling rain,
The sunflowers still blossom, though it’s not the same.
Growing up a family, with your missing name,
Is like gazing at a sunflower … through a broken pane.
Today, a long past memory was jogged, a never forgotten moment recalled and tears were shed; but all is just as it should be.
So heartbreaking, Ellen. Gentle said, and with great love that pours from this poem. Beautiful writing and a little peace there at the end. ❤
Your wisdom speaks volumes. 😘
What a poignant poem, Ellen, with so many beautiful but heartbreaking images. Sending you lots of love x
Nice of you to read and comment thank you. 😗
My mother-in-law’s fourth baby died of a cot death aged 4 months. She still never speaks his name 63 years later, never went to his funeral, and has never visited his grave. I suppose that’s the only way she copes with her loss. Sam’s eldest sister, 8 years older, remembers when it happened and told us all about it, otherwise Sam would never have known he had a brother. This poem reminded me of the time nearly 40 years’ ago when we found his grave.
So sad, to bury the pain so deep. Talking and dealing with the emotion is the way you come to terms. Xx
Of course, but it’s not her way.
Most of us behave that way Stevie … in hope of forgetting. Women are begining to open up a little more. Thank you for sharing the sad tale of your mother-in-law.
So sad and one never truly forgets just deals with it better …Your words express such loss and emotion, Ellen ..Much love and hugs xxx
Thanks for reading and i love your comments💚
Good morning Ellen. Thank you for this heartfelt poem. Raw emotion put into words. I think and know so many mothers in this situation. I feel for each one and unable to comprehend, as I never went through this myself, what these mothers had to endure. Once again, thank you for sharing my friend. Blessings and thinking of you as well. I RT
Xx👭💙
This well-written poem is so full of emotion. Thanks for sharing as I know many will relate to it.
Unfortunately it is another unnatural natural phenomenon. Thank you for stopping by.
A beautiful poem Ellen. Those last two lines got me. I miscarried in 1996, but it was so eaarly it didn’t seem real, but sometimes I sit and wonder.
I am sorry for your loss but think your poem is wonderful.
Time alows you to heal and it also anchors the time it happened … therefore never quite allowing it to be gone. A loss is a loss and can be traumatic and I am sorry for your experience too. Though I believe what happens teaches us humility and empathy. It used to be you did not know you were pregnant until three months. Now we can know at day two … so lots more people are recognising a misscariage because they knew so early. When during my era, people would think they had a bad period because they did not know. I had four miscarriages (after three months) but the still birth stays with you like a tiny shaddow. Thanks for reading and certainly for your lovely comments. 💜
So sad Ellen. I am truly sorry.
💌
Reblogged this on Ellenbest24 and commented:
Today I am reminded of many emotions that stirr inside and this poem says everthing it needs to.
One of my favorites. Don’t ever become wasted talent. I hope you strive with your gift as ones like me are fortunate to read this. You speak a beautiful pain.sad, lovely and I’m thinking is true. My soft spot goes out to you.
The truth, the essence of who you are makes the most authentic reading.
Thank you for the kindest of words.😇
Beautiful poem, Ellen. Thanks for so bravely writing and sharing it.
And thanks for visiting my work. Your comments and follows are greatfully received 😇
Wow – this made me blink away tears.
Tears are good… I’ll take the tears.😇
Beautiful and so heartbreaking. Past memories have risen with this for a lot of us and it is difficult to write about. Thank you for sharing it x
Thanks for your comments. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, it can feel so raw, with a simple word or sight or sound to remind us.
I’m so sorry for this. This sounds like it was an extremely hard thing to get through. I don’t have kids so I don’t exactly but I know my Mom and Dad lost a baby for me and immediately wanted another because of the loss of the first. Well written poem.
Thanks for your comments.
You’re welcome.
You really moved me. You really captured the feeling of loss. Thank you, I’m sure this wasn’t easy to write.
I have never before wanted to put pen to paper on this subject. After I had finished I knew it was the right thing for me. Cathartic to say the least. I am pleased you came, thank you.
Beautiful poem–but so sad and full of longing. It made me tear up.
Ohh, thank you for coming and taking the time… to emote. 😇
🙂
What a emotional poem . I felt for all who were lost no matter the length of time they were alloted to be.
Thank you for your comments.
Hmm, this pulls on my memory cords. Poignantly beautiful.
oh Jacqueline I am touched by your comments. Thank you.
My pleasure Ellen
Don’t know why this poem made me cry for decisions made in the past.
Or maybe it just did. X thank you for reading.
Sometimes you can turn the clocks back n your dreams. I have.
You can never hold them there. 😯
I know but it is better than the alternative.