The new girl

We stood before the open gate
and waited in the springtime sun
as none of us spoke much that time,
we only heard the wind blow hard.

We watched her get her red kite up:
the girl who came from Amsterdam.
Her hair was black in curls and shone,
she wore a jacket and a scarf.

She let the kite go in the air
and you ran forward through the gate
to grab the line, thus saved the day.
You took her hand. We held our breath.

We, others, knew right there and then
that you may never let her go
so obvious it was to us.
The kite is gone, but love has stayed.

Your children now play in the grass,
a girl with black and curly hair,
the boy’s is red just like his dad,
and they have kites that fly all day.


Comments on: "The new girl" (12)

  1. Widow Beach said:

    Oh WOW, Ina.

  2. What a lovely story! L&H xx

  3. Cheerful & delightful…

  4. My brothers and I flew our kites very high in the sky…the winds were sometimes very stong and broke the twine. We watch as the kite sailed away high in the sky. Sometimes we walked (or ran) a mile or more until we lost sight of it. I love kites. Thanks for the memories.

  5. Good stuff. Again.

  6. lovely to see this again and developed so beautifully…

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