My wife responded with her own poem after reading my effort yesterday. It connects our children and events in our lives with places we have lived in.
When I see my husband, I’m 18
And his hands touch young flesh.
When I look at Neti, our creative firstborn, I’m 20
And we’re playing “zoom, zoom” in the park.
When I think of our Kiki, I’m 22
And I am watching her sturdy little legs carry her along the track.
When I see Jac’s smile, I’m 27
And her friends are at the school gate, screaming:
“Hi, Jacqui’s Mum!”
When I gaze at Alex’s face, so serene, I’m 29
And she is anything but peaceful, shouting the words of her reader at me.
When I see Caroline, I feel Caroline. I’m 29
And I’m holding my breath until I feel her move, the touch of her feet dancing.
When I look at Rosey, I’m 33
And we’re having a race to complete jigsaw puzzles.
There’s kindness in Paul’s eyes, I’m older now.
And we’re laughing in church at a Lego joke.
There are hundreds of photos,
A thousand memories,
They add up to forty years.
Yet when I see my Pieter