A phenomenon
A circumstance
Behold a forest scene
In the Backwoods
A setting
Beautiful and green
An old house
Far from anywhere
Miss Kelty
And her daughters
Peace and quiet
And tranquillity
The stepping stones
To far away
In visions
Of normality

A hermitage of sorts
An elemental place
A mother living all alone
Just a wild and calming space
Growing up imagining
Assumptions everywhere
A sort of serendipity
The randomness they share

Able with a vigour
With resources all around
Wood to chop
Fish to catch
The sights how they abound
A true survivability
An overwhelming power
Compelling and assertive
How the eyes can flower

Can resurrect an image
Of life perhaps before
The beauty of each moment
In the mind there on the floor
A sister lost forever
Spirited away
A story of the stepping stones
Where once yes we did play

A parent old and loving
A sister whisked away
Who took a trip to Heaven
On a fated day
And I was left with mother
Who cried for Mother Earth
Who knew the span of History
Present on the earth

We spoke in our own language
One day dear mother she
Went to join my sister
In the Heaven full and free
Beyond the trees high in the sky
Laying on the floor
I pressed the blossoms on her eyes
To help her see some more

She had been my inspiration
My connection to this place
She was dominant but gentle
And let me run and chase
Play and join the spirits
The backwoods did inspire
The harmony of being
And the resourcefulness of fire

She laid down on that morning
Weaker than before
Her breathing became laboured
It made me feel unsure
The immensity of losing her
My surroundings though I knew
Every nook and cranny
On my memory I drew

The wilderness was living
Where Mother stared into
Her spirit had gone somewhere else
That much I knew was true
Alone I watched her body
The only dweller now
The cottage by the river
And A chapter as to how

The delivery boy came hither
And shouted to the sky
I managed to scream a message out
And he came up by and by
Followed by the sheriff
And a Dr who
Found me where I was hiding
His eyes to mine he drew

Frightened startled rarely
Had I seen a man so tall
This was now my place my world
The vicinity was all
I had ever wished for
The surroundings were where I
Made up all my stories
Encompassing the sky

On the edge of somewhere
Bound by the forest gay
Where I laid my head each night
And dreamed of far away
My imagination, the stories in my head
The regularity of form
Where often I was led

Through the mirror
Of uncertainty
A portal somewhere to
Another world of happiness
Where I could just go through
Meeting Dr Lovell
He brought to me some care
He really talked my language
And was seemingly aware

An outstretched arm
A smoothness
A soft voice in my ear
A women came called Paula
When she was near, his fear
Was prominent I felt it
erratic and some what tense
Unhurried was his manner
Which seemed to make more sense

He was kind and was understanding
An earthling to be sure
An individual human being
Who just did not ignore
Me, nor all my foibles
He was gentle he was kind
He stayed around for several weeks
And helped me with my mind

He and the other doctor
Lived on a boat away
Down the hill not very far
And they came everyday
He helped me with my language
He seemed to understand
With patience he was able
To perceive which did feel grand

He listened and repeated
I couldn’t remember when
Anyone else had given me
The time of day and then
Repeated how I had spoken
A translation exercise
And they watched me and they cared for me
Opening my eyes

To a kind of lovely joyous state
I had not really felt before
Living in my own small world
Of dreams and many more
Visions of my childhood
Of the memories I shared
Of the world beyond the mirror
Where sometimes I had dared

To go how I did tingle
When he brushed my hair
That kindness I had seldom felt
For me it felt so rare
So comforting so precious
That someone cared for me
Not for my looks or expensive clothes
But just what he could see

The big world outside is heavy
With people and with noise
A furnace of destruction
A way with all of poise
A loudness the blast of city life
Voices yelling bawling shouting
Pollution and so much strife
Dissonance and disharmony
Such harshness on the ear
The stories in my memory
Exchanged for yet more fear

It appears that I was getting known
Other people came
A newspaper man with a camera
Who now should I blame?
Jerry or was it Paula
Or the other experts who
Wanted to get their hands on me
The wild child it was true

The scraping rasping harshness
A hospital was where
They took me to have lots of tests
The tension that was there
The bedlam and the aura’s
And the sadness and the grief
I had to find myself again
To regain some relief

The smell there was convulsive
There was lots of light
But an over riding darkness
That reminded me at night
How loneliness came back again
Just nobody there to care
Professionals but heartless
And,strongly unaware

Jerry came and saw me
And straight a way could feel
The vagueness and the reason
He felt it, it was real
I actually did communicate
And he did so to me
His assiduousness was relevant
It was how it had to be

We communicated on the spot
He picked me up and ran
He felt the grief within me
That when it began
To dawn on me in his defence
Developing a plan
To study me and consequently
Imprison me and be
in their shackles all my life
Never to be free

He carried me away
To safety
And out to the court
Legalistic tremors
They obscured my thought
And I showed my conviction
A moral certainty
And I found a new family
An adoption thus for me

Living with the sheriff and his lady
So much care
Not only just for them but me
An awareness it was there
We kind of helped each other
To see the light of day
To marvel at its greatness
To share each bout of play

To be myself,to wonder
My day dreams were all mine
Jerry and Paula married
And their life was divine
They had a little daughter
And she and I became
Friends a brand new sister
A bright and gentle flame

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