Written for National Poetry Month: 4/11/15


“I am worthy of words, lines, and spaces.”


{All she had to offer

was a yellow buttercup.

It drooped its ailing head –

it could not hold it up.

She put it in Doll’s bed

and doctored “Poor Thing” up.


Doll and Bear cried, “Nurse!

We fear a diagnose of Worse!”


She covered up the buttercup

and offered bread and jelly.

She placed her stethoscope

down upon its little belly.

“I have medicine for you to take –

though it is somewhat smelly.”


The buttercup lay its head

upon the doll pillow.

With a pale nod it seemed to say,

“The end is near, I know.”

It opened up it’s mouth to take

the medicine so smelly,

and then it quickly obeyed nurse

by eating bread with jelly.}


“I am worthy of garden paths and fountains.”


{Doll sighed, her cap askew,

“We have done all we can do.”}


“Rooms and corridors…seconds, minutes, hours.”


{She gave all that she could give –

offered all she had –

for a drooping buttercup

laid in her doll’s bed.}


“I am worthy of words,

worthy of lines,

worthy of spaces.”


“Could you make a little room

for me in your book?”

A few words, a line, a phrase

is all that it took.


{In the hospital that day

the little girl lay down.

Tiring from all her play –

she slept deep and sound.

Other hands came to tuck

the faithful patient in.

Other heads shook and said,

“The diagnose is grim.”


But next day, Buttercup

(planted in his pot)

stood to cheer his sweet nurse.

He gave all he’d got.}


“Make a little room, please,

with your pencil –

write of me.”