Did you swim to the anchored boat, or row? One teenage girl; and the blue eyed boy who adored her. It was there in the salty, sea air Passion reigned, conception unforeseen Innocence, yet no thoughts of what was to come I became me.   A presence inside you, Movement within, A period missed… Morning sickness… Support offered by no one. Pressure and stress prevailed.   Troubled and misunderstood, You were sent away. Maybe you read books, Or chatted into the night with a friend. Every girl had her own story, with a growing belly A common theme.   Sent away, Where no one knew you… Did you cry yourself to sleep? Feeling forgotten, unsure of what lay ahead. I would have tightly held your hand, had I been your friend. Smiled or wiped away a tear.   An adult now, I yearn to have calmed your fears, And wish I could have been your personal messenger Be the carrier pigeon to your blue eyed boy. Things could have been different. When you were sent away. ©2010, S.E. Waters

The Vase Another time, another place this same vase Brought life to a room full of fear and distress. A little heavy, and cold to the touch, This vase warms my heart. Even now, pink tea roses are carefully placed when I need a lift, Pink tea roses surrounded by baby’s breath, Inside a porcelain vase with roses painted on the front, To some, it may look ordinary. But to me, it declares genuine love And implies forgiveness. Did roses bloom on the windowsill beside my crib? An exhausted teenage mother had something beautiful to look at. Against white walls, with staff she hardly knew. Distraught parents linger, unhappy their daughter had given birth. Those roses represented hope, And signified compassion. Forty-one years ago, My great-grandmother sent a bouquet of pink tea roses, in a vase. To my mother after my birth, Alone in showing no judgement, I cherish the notion that my own great-grandmother soared above the rest, And sent pink tea roses in a beautiful vase. ©2010 S.E. Waters