for Gita, wherever you are
Enchantment beckoned at the end of your garden
many climbing roses intertwined into a
a concealing bower where
we spied on hidden lovers
hunted magic deer that leapt
skywards and away from
our orbital arrows that encircled the world
we swapped shoes and dresses
each handmade by our mothers
each smelling so different
you said all my people smelled of milk
I thought all yours were spice scented
and beautiful
we kissed each others palms
held our breath as pirate raiders crept by
evaded an amorous Sultan
sucked the tart sweetness of pomegranates
taken from your mothers kitchen
we found brambles amid the blooms
you did not know blackberries at all
then loved them more than pomegranate
because they grew in our magic place
you mother thought they were dirty
like me
we thought this would go on forever
that we would grow up together
then, you were suddenly gone
moved away to where
a school would accept an Ugandan Asian girl
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Sounds like she was a special friend!
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Very much so!
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So poignant, beautiful and ultimately sad. I wonder if racism will ever go away. Do you think humans are capable?
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Yes, I do. It’s all about the way children are brought up. Show them how to treat everyone the same for example. We basically raised our sons with the idea of “Do as you would be done by”. It appears to have worked given their expressed opinions as adults, who they have fallen in love with and (from an early age) their politeness, kindness and generosity. Phew!
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she will love it
its nostalgic and simply beautiful
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Thank you – that is very much appreciated. Maybe somewhere, sometime, Gita will see this poem…..
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Such a beautiful friendship. Parents have no idea what sudden moves like that do to children. I hope her new school welcomed her as she so deserved.
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So do I…..
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A little sad confronting the reality of racism…good poem.
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This was in the 1970s, things have improved somewhat.
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Thank you, as always, for a beautiful poem. Your words transport me and I so appreciate hearing your poetic voice and seeing a snapshot of the world through your eyes.
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A sweet sensory world of childhood, very much enjoyed.
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Thanks Steve
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Lovely way of putting the point!! ❤️❤️
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Thank you
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