Two Poems Diverged

Audrey. 

Deanne. 

My day-old child lay in my arms.           My grandma looks like Audrey Hepburn.        

With my lips agains his ear.            I live with her,

I whispered strongly, "How I wish--           And I love her to pieces.

I wish that you could hear;           I asked what is her favorite poem

"I've a hundred wonderful things to say           And she bolted to her favorite book

(A tiny cough and a nod),           Of poetry.

Hurry, hurry, hurry and grow           Beginnings, it said

So I can tell you about God."           By Carol Lynn Pearson.

My day-old baby's mouth was still           She flipped through the pages,

And my words only tickled his ear.           And stopped on forty-two.

But a kind of light passed through his eyes,           Day-Old Child.

And I saw this thought appear:           My grandma is a nurse,

"How I wish I had a voice and words;           And cares for day-old babies.

I've a hundred things to say.           This poem means things to her,

Before I forget I'd tell you of God--           That don't mean the same to me.

I left Him yesterday.           This is my grandma's favorite poem.