Priceless Paper

She reads,

Her tears falling fast and hard

Over this rumpled scrap of paper

Instead of a pretty card

She reads,

Words too dear to shape out loud

But spilled forever on a scrap of paper

Instead of a pretty card

…and the echo of words not so pretty

As they fell furious and hard

Are forgiven; tears wash this ‘scrap of paper

Instead of a pretty card’

She reads,

Beauty begins to bloom among the broken shards

She clasps to her heart love’s scrap of paper

Instead of a pretty card

Love bleeds truest in the torn and tattered
Its beauty is scribbled and scarred
Tender splendor on scraps of paper
Instead of a pretty card

© Janet Martin

I have to admit, I felt a little guilty as she watched me pull out all the tissue paper (just to make sure)…and there it was, folded in the very bottom, the thing every mother craves; her children’s words. The note began with an apology that it isn’t a pretty card…