Outside My Daughter’s Room


Out Side My Daughter’s Room


My daughter slept as I watched over her,

outside a howling storm raced through the

Cabbage Palms and Bull Bay Magnolias.  The

Atlantic wind sends a salty spray over the levy,

I pray as an immense gloom enters my mind.


A stream of water has formed across the yard,

a threat to the new growth of tender plantings in

my garden.  Now rain is pounding the earth like a

possessed drum from a distant shore far away; the

sea is not innocent.


I look at the guiltless face of my child, beautiful, filled

with natural compassion and spirit.  I hope for her a life

of abundant love and wealth, and to find a man that will

worship her, not a troubled fool.


May she become like a hidden tree in the forest, her voice

be that of a songbird, a heart of great generosity and of

spirit?   May she never know hatred from evil, safe from

assault like the wind outside her window and dreams that

burst with happiness; I wish all this as I pray for the

calmness to come to the sea.




thBPHSKA15“Life is short, live it. Love is rare, grab it. Anger is bad, dump it. Fear is awful, face it. Memories are sweet, cherish it.”



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7 thoughts on “Outside My Daughter’s Room

  1. This was so full of love for your daughter and treasures expressed within the words. Thank you, Elizabeth, for sharing this personal prayer for your daughter with us. May all the wishes come true for your daughter and my two daughters, too.<3


  2. My daughter is on a suicide death run with drugs. Another family has taken in the two kids. No contact with her several months. I truly am “Outside her room” . May only the very best of things come your child’s way.


    1. Carl my daughter died on July 21, 2010; at the age of 53 she had a stoke to her stomach, the cause was years of drugs destroyed it. My heart is with you and your family, your child will remain in my prayers. Thank you for sharing this with me, I know its not easy. When people read or view our work, art, writing, they never fully know do they? My grief does show in my writing, my poetry, I hope to one day know what a measure of happiness is again. Be strong. Elizabeth


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