Friday, 20 July 2012

A poem to my Beloved Daughter Jessica Ann Thompson (nee Petersen)


Your mother was once, the apple of my eye,
And you but a twinkle, that when born made me sigh,
Then I gave you your name, and put you to breast,
Of your mother who raised you and gave you her best.

They say if you Love someone, you must let them go,
And how much I care for you, you may never know,
Yet oft times I think of you and pray you’re alright,
Then softly whisper, God Bless you tonight.

With playful reminders, of happiness... still,
I never thought... or perceived that I will,
Yet ponder the notion, to see you once more,
Is what I do pray for, and with hope do implore.

Your life takes you thither, and hither I say,
Ever comforted in the knowledge, that you’re going the right way,
You’re a Star that is Rising, mine waning at best,
You’re a beacon to others, simply known as “Our Jess”.

God Bless you Jess!
Love Always, Dad xxxOOOxxx.

THE WRITER a poem by Christopher John Petersen.


With soberness of mind, he takes up his quill,
And awaits the muses that are currently still,
he struggles in thought as the candle burns low,
a flickering light on a page, words yet to bestow.

Then all of a sudden there’s a change in it light,
The flame once flickering dim is now dancing and bright,
Words flowing like summoned then plucked from the air,
And the former blank parchment is no longer bare.

Full of meaning and purpose he scribes through the night,
A little here a little there ‘til he’s got it just right,
Then sets he his quill from whence it had come,
And hopes that his work is pleasing to some.

© by Christopher John Petersen