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January 13, 2013

Holding On

There exists a great deal of literature on the wisdom of "letting go." The following poems, however, remind me of the equally great wisdom of holding on. Granted, we need to "hold on" in a way that does not bring our lives to a standstill, and in a way that does no harm to ourselves or others. Yet I see no harm in the kind of holding on that these poems affirm. We do not relinquish our loved ones from our heart and mind. We do long to reunite with them in an eternity we cannot know without traveling there ourselves. This, too, is part of our human experience. This, too, helps us get along with our grief.


To Florrie on her 26th Birthday

by Wilda Morris

Your mother was almost eight when we adopted her.
When she was pregnant, she said, I’ll share my baby
with you, since you never had one of your own.

I treasured those afternoons when “You Are My Sunshine”
kept slipping from my heart to my lips as I soothed tired tears
or gazed in awe at your sleepy smile.

A warmth swelled within me as my hand patted
your back, tousled your hair. Your eyelids drooped.
My fingers could not resist massaging

your doll-like feet, tiny toes, your hands
and exquisite fingers. I rocked you for hours,
unwilling to relinquish you to the crib, never seeing

the specter of that July day when you were almost seven,
the day a gray cloud shrouded the sun in your eyes,
and your eyelids closed for the last time. Today I rock again,

feel your head against my chest, your golden curls
tickling my arm. I look for your sunny face, listen
for your bubbling laughter. Dearest Florrie,

I will never relinquish you, my baby, my first grandchild.


Farewell, Sandy
                   for Sandy Davis

by Kufre Edeme

Sandy, oh, Sandy!
Why gone so soon like a fading morning moon?
I miss you so dearly, Sandy.
My heart melts at your departure
Sandy, your absence sweeps me to sadness,
But I know that you're with the Father.
I know that someday we'll meet again
In a place where we'll stay forever,
A place where there'll be no more sorrows.
Farewell, Sandy,
My friend you shall remain
Until we meet to break no more
Farewell, Sandy,
Until darkness fades away.


Wilda Morris is past President and current Workshop Chair of Poets & Patrons of Chicago. Her poems have been published in numerous anthologies, literary journals and other publications, including Alive Now, MO: Writings from the River, and Seeding the Snow. Her blog, at  provides a monthly prompt and contest for other poets. This is her third publication on our blog. "To Florrie on her 26th Birthday," copyright Wilda Morris.

Kufre Udeme is a strong-willed writer with an artistic commitment to confront and defeat the blind (founded on ignorance or prejudice) criticisms of Africa. He has written columns for local newspapers, and his poetry has been published extensively in numerous countries. He enjoys hearing from readers via his blog 
Poem "Farewell, Sandy," copyright Kufre Udeme. 

Photos by Ysabel de la Rosa

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