"Poème de l'âme" by Louis Janmot‘For Our Children’ and Other Poetry by Amy Foreman The Society April 27, 2017 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 19 Comments For Our Children “The sum is greater than its parts,” or so the saying goes. And now the two of us can see the proof as each one grows, Distinct but similar in code, the perfect mix and match Of you and me but with a little extra in each batch. You gave your chromosomes, all twenty-three, and I gave mine: That nose like yours, those eyes like mine, his humor, her hairline. The two became one, yes it’s true, that one plus one is one, But each of us gave more than us to daughter and to son. For isn’t that your Uncle Bob we hear in boyish joke, My grandma’s fingers on the keys our daughter can evoke? A cousin’s art, your father’s songs, Aunt Margaret’s detail– We see and hear and sense them all; our children walk their trail. But still there’s more; it’s not heredity alone they bear, Not just genetic predetermination that they share. For parts of them go further than we trace from you or me, Those aspects that can’t find a match in recent history. Original in talent, passion, attitude, and mien, Each child is now a prototype the world has never seen, When Breath from Heaven orchestrated life within each cell. Their DNA and heritage formed just the earthly shell. Each independent spirit held within its human frame, Loosely defined by history, by ancestry, by name. But tighter bound to One who holds their hearts within His hand; Creator of this family, Who had the whole thing planned. Remember when we held them, small, in wonder and in awe That mortal hands could hold eternal souls, so new, so raw? We knew then as we know it now, the honor of our place, Our sum, as parents, greater than our parts, by far, by grace. Leaven, Part One (Based on Matthew 13:33) Transfigured from within, though I don’t know The moment when the sponge infused the dough. It must have happened, though, because I see The end result, as different as can be From flattened lump I mixed not long ago. . Exposure to the yeast began, first slow ‘Til I divided and commenced to throw And knead each piece, and then to watch all three Transfigured from within. . Was it the pounding, shaping, every blow I worked into each batch that made it grow? Or was it just the presence or degree Of leaven in my pastry that was key To making lifeless mass now overflow– Transfigured from within. Click here to read Part Two on Amy Foreman’s blog. Amy Foreman hails from the southern Arizona desert, where she homesteads with her husband and seven children. She has enjoyed teaching both English and Music at the college level, but is now focused on home-schooling her children, gardening, farming, and writing. Her blog is theoccasionalcaesura.wordpress.com Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ classicalpoets.org with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Related 19 Responses Kathy F. April 27, 2017 Great work, particularly the first poem, which I think is brilliant! Reply Amy Foreman April 27, 2017 Thank you, Kathy. Reply Dona Fox April 27, 2017 “For Our Children” was lovely. Thank you. Reply Amy Foreman April 27, 2017 Glad you enjoyed it, Dona! Reply James Sale April 27, 2017 More beautiful poetry from Amy, so well crafted, so expressive; a joy to read and contemplate. Thank you. Reply Amy Foreman April 27, 2017 Thanks so much, James, for your kind words. Reply ben grinberg April 27, 2017 my favorite lines: For isn’t that your Uncle Bob we hear in boyish joke, We see and hear and sense them all; our children walk their trail. But tighter bound to One who holds their hearts within His hand; Creator of this family, Who had the whole thing planned. That mortal hands could hold eternal souls, so new, so raw? Our sum, as parents, greater than our parts, by far, by grace. Reply Reid McGrath April 27, 2017 Exquisite. Reply Amy Foreman April 27, 2017 Thanks, Ben and Reid. Reply David Watt April 28, 2017 I really enjoyed ‘For Our Children’ in particular. Well written and descriptive of a great truth in life. Reply Amy Foreman April 28, 2017 I’m glad you enjoyed it, David. Reply Wendy Bourke April 28, 2017 Wonderful words beautifully rendered. I love rhyme done well – and you have nailed it. Reply Amy Foreman April 28, 2017 Thank you, Wendy! Reply Jack Hart May 1, 2017 Congratulations–I didn’t think anyone since the Elizabethans could make fourteeners actually work. Jack Hart Reply Amy Foreman May 1, 2017 Call me old-fashioned . . . 😉 Thanks, Jack. Reply David Hollywood May 21, 2017 Wonderful poetry, with terrific imagery in Leaven. Reply Amy Foreman May 21, 2017 Thank you, David! Reply Kelli Barrett November 24, 2017 Hi, Amy. I love “for our children.” I also want to say that I went to school with you from elementary to graduation. My maiden name is Kelli Bragg. Reply Amy Foreman November 24, 2017 How nice to hear from you, Kelli! Would love to reconnect! Check out my blog, theoccasionalcaesura.wordpress.com, if you like. It contains my contact information. Blessings to you. 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