Special Poem by Gillena Cox
Special
The green grass,
Neatly manicured,
I dip my fingers,
Into the holy water font,
Blessed and sprouting agape,
I enter into the lives,
Of those twisted bodies,
Temples of sweet angelic
Affection,
Called special children;
With eyes that reflect,
The tiniest spark of kindness,
Returning smiles;
I wonder, do they perceive
Us first, as being special?
2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/18/2024 7:08:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
