Baby Doll

Upon an ancient wicker rocker sits
A pretty little lady just as old.
How fair her alabaster cheeks, and smooth,
Yet never do they dimple with a grin.
Her azure eyes look on, but nothing see;
No word from her red lips was ever heard.
Those chubby little arms will never reach
As if to beckon me to hold her close.
My dear, if you and I had never met,
I’d be as lifeless as that baby doll.

antique doll

About the poem:

I was looking at my antique doll sitting in her chair in the corner of the room when this poem came to me. At first I was merely writing about the doll, but as the lines progressed, I realized that I needed to make a point. She has many characteristics of a real live baby, but she is missing the main ingredient: life.

I, too, was afraid to live until a certain person came into my life, calmed my fears, taught me that my life had value, and gave me hope for a brighter future. If not for him, I am quite sure that I would not be here today.

Copyright © 2018 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved

Sonnetina Uno
blank verse: 10 unrhymed lines of iambic pentameter

4 Replies to “Baby Doll”

Questions or Comments?

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.