Making Amends Poem by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne

You used honeyed words
I used wildflowers in a glass jar
It seemed mad to be at odds
while bees and flowers and summer sun
conspired to make us smile

All childish grief dispersed
games and play resumed
our chubby arms entwined
like honeysuckle ropes that bind
our idols to their throne

And now I wiser am
and hear beneath your tone
to all the use you have for me
to all the use you ever had
had I but ever known

And now I pride my adult heart
for adult sins to see
yet as a dupe in innocence
in summer games and pretty play
My heart was far more free.