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Jamie and The Mice
 


I needed a secret weapon
to break through his defences,
Jamie, autistic with echo speech,
hedged in with his boundary fences.

He was only a little boy of four,
a golden child in appearance.
His parents were desperate for me to help,
so a free hand with no interference.

I crafted him a pair of mice,
softest velvet, white and pink,
tiny felt ears, perky angle,
google eyes to twirl and wink.

Little shiny noses
I embroidered in black silk,
whiskers wrought in unplied twine
or something of that ilk.

This pair of finger puppets
to fit his digit or mine,
friendly fellows, ever moving,
chatting constantly, benign.

I introduced them to him
through some holes cut in a box
into which I'd packed equipment,
picture books and building blocks.

These cheeky mice addressed him
from their holes as they conversed.
He was rapt from the beginning,
in their characters immersed.

His brownish golden eyes were locked,
enthralled by every move.
I knew I'd found my opening,
every lesson he'd improve.

Three years we worked intensely,
that lovely child and me;
he learned the art of pretense
which allowed him to be free.

From no real communication,
he went, in three amazing years
to being more than capable
of equalling his peers.

Now, twenty years from when we met,
that darling child and me;
last year he graduated
with a performing arts degree.




* A note from the poet...
the situation and characters are quite real.
This was my experience.




By cherryk

© 2017 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with Stella (rosethorne) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with Stella (rosethorne) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with Stella (rosethorne) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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