Not too Late

This one’s a bit experimental. I’ll probably nIggle away at it until it feels completely right – it was written quickly; posted before I had time to change my mind  – and dedicated to my sister, who is a wonderful artist, and has a WP blog which you can find HERE.


Let’s pretend we can start again;
pull our high-heeled dreams from the rusty trunk of ways we may have lived,
don our festive frocks of freedom,
our pristine raiment of wishes we will fulfill
in our re-invented innocence.
Maybe we can make it real – achieve those ordained successes;
we will reach, and, this time,
silken ribbons in rainbow shades will wrap around our snapping fingers
for us alone to weave.
We’ll leave the agony and angst behind,
forget historic sins which cut us to the core,
ignore our petty weaknesses and flaws,
we’ll make them go away, and think of them no more.

There is still time to believe we are great, and if we believe,
we can make the very grass beneath our feet
dance in time to new music.
Between us, we can paint the sky in colours never seen,
and write our way into the gleaming sunshine.

Please, tell me it’s not too late
to feed the little ones a feast of beauty,
which will carry them, gleaming, into the future,
breaking the tainted chain of feotid failure.

Tell me there is a way to erase those sneaky edits,
scratched throughout our early days
by our itchy father’s leaky pen,
sweep away the debris, and start again.

Thanks for the inspiration,  Chris.

©Jane Paterson Basil


25 thoughts on “Not too Late

        1. Thank you for that, Shane. As for predator, I was furious at the time, but it’s all gryst to the mill, as they say in the North of England – in other words, just stuff that goes in, to processed down to a fine powder. If I had less to think about, I may feel sorry for him.

          Liked by 1 person

  1. This is so beautiful, Jane. And although I know somewhat of the circumstances you’re skirting around, I think the poem is perfect for siblings of most families. The language was so gorgeous. What an honor for her to have you write this poem…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Calen – I was hoping more bloggers would read this, and take a look at my sister’s blog, but I forgot to categorise and tag it until several hours after it was posted, so not many people saw it. I’m annooyed with myself.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I think she became discouraged with her blog. It should have been a showpiece, but it didn’t get noticed. Chris’s work is outstanding; I don’t think her blog shows that as well as it could. She only posted her sketches, but she has lots of other work online. I’ve been Googling Christine Basil artist, and I’ve found several sites that she displays on. I think my favorite is:

      Liked by 1 person

            1. Surely you can’t mean moi… self critical?… but my poetry hasn’t reached my required standard yet, whereas Chris’s art… 😉
              Come to think of it, if she says she needs to improve, she must be right. Only she knows what level she’s reaching towards.

              Liked by 1 person

              1. You?! Good heavens, I hadn’t noticed that trait in you 🙂 Whilst there is always room for improvement, it’s best balanced with a realistic assessment of the quality. I would suggest we are not the best judges of our own work when it comes to that. It will always fall short. I should know. Mine does 🙂

                Liked by 1 person

                1. Ha! So, that sounds rather like the pot calling the kettle black… your writing is superb, and yet you’re as self critical as we are.
                  When I was little, I drew pictures of people, and they never looked anything like my dad’s drawings. I wished I could draw that well, but didn’t see how it was possible… if we didn’t have a critical eye we’d never improve.

                  Liked by 1 person

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