Bless me father ....

Bless me father ....

As a little one I yearned for 

a gentle hand to cup my head,

brush my cheek with parchment

fingertips, to turn when I did, on

small feet, hurry toward, to smile 

at my back when I left ..free then

to cross the threshold and nibble

the delights from the plate of the day -

sighing deep relief safe under the count-

less protection of the bless soaking my

fledgling soul

Bless me ...

Bless me  ....

As a little one I yearned for  a gentle hand to cup my head,

brush my cheek with parchment fingertips - to turn when I,
on small feet, did hurry toward -  to smile at my back when
I left -  Free then to cross the threshold 

to nibble at delights from the plate of the day -
sighing deep - safe under the count-

less protection of the bless that set
my unfolding fledgling soul to soar ....

The Sunday Whirl