Still Hope

Gayle Walters 1st grade photo

Gayle Walters 1st grade photo

Only six years old,
there’s still hope
in those pure eyes.
The smile is genuine,
accessorized by dimples.
There’s a semblance
of safety that’s still
being met. Fear and
panic has yet to set a
pathway through
my neurons. Only six,
there’s still hope.

Lillian is our host for our Quadrille prompt over at dVerse Poets.  Come join the fun with one of most popular prompts, to write a poem in 44 words.

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  1. What a beautiful girl. So sad someone could instill fear and panic in that precious being but I know they can. Beautiful poem!


  2. Ah. I see you as a hope-filled person, Gayle.


  3. Cute kid in that photo, for sure. Love those thoughts. I sent you an email with a question if you could take a moment. It concerns one of my submissions.


  4. A very sweet photo of you Gayle with your dimples and innocent eyes. Indeed, life is filled with safety and hope.


  5. The innocence of six. Epecially love the Peter Pan collar — my six year old class picture, sitting at a little desk in my uniform with this exact same collar! You were a cutie indeed! Hopefully today’s children feel the same safety and hope — if we can keep the devices out of their hands and monitor their news intake — I think it must be tougher now?


    • Peter Pan colors were big in the 50s and as I recall, in the 60s too. It’s funny, Lillian, but I still remember that outfit. Our school also took a classroom photo of us and I have my second grade and sixth grade photos of those…black and white of course. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  6. you’re so cute! and yes, hope is there! 🙂


  7. This is excellent and hits me way too deep.


  8. To tell the honest truth this is breaking my heart. Having gotten to know you through reading your work, the survivor was evident then already!


  9. what a precious photo and the innocence of childhood still smiling with hope…your poem expresses your inner child and the layers place upon it through the years…bkm


  10. Glenn Buttkus

     /  August 1, 2016

    At six, you looked like a young Elizabeth Taylor. At six, I was garrulous & inquisitive–hope appeared at twelve. Still, my six year old still controls my sense of wonder about life.


    • Ha! Well, thanks for the compliment to my six year old little self, Glenn. I love that you were garrulous and inquisitive as a child and that child is still present within you today.


  11. Sad ! A sweet little girl.


  12. Your poet’s voice cries softly through your carefully chosen words. Hope then, repeated, leads the reader to the underlying truth… if not no hope, then hope is fainter, more distant, and harder to hold. You have us in your hand in this poem.


    • Thanks for this, Charley. Yes, the hope came and went through the years…maybe that’s the way it is for everyone.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Yeah, I guess so. I’ve spent a quite a few years producing hope… to keep from giving up and giving in. It’s paid off. I have a wonderful wife, am in a wonderful place, and have a wonderful dog welded to my hip as I type this! Oh, and I have chocolate! Does it get any better than that?

        Liked by 1 person

  13. Aw! Great picture! I read through this several times and let the words skip like a little girl across my mind. This is so well done, Rose!


  14. Your face and eyes and smile have changed little in these years. You still shine forth hope. And you have survived and shared that hope with your children and grandchild.


    • Oh thanks for that, Toni…very sweet. That is my greatest accomplishment…those girls and that granddaughter…gives me lots of hope. 🙂


  15. Oh to be six again and ignorant of the world’s dangers. Well done.


  16. I’d have to think about my life at six. But yours sounds like the perfect stepping stone to the you we’re coming to know! Well done, Gayle!


  17. At six – and sixty – we can help ourselves to all the hope we need………..I loved this, Gayle, and adore the photo – such happiness and sweetness in that face.


  18. This is touching and sad at the same time. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but hope the hope is not gone now.


  19. love the cute photo of you Gayle, totally happiness made…the lines speaking of paths yet to be known make the poem riveting…


  20. I love the way you have gone back to your six-year-old self, Gayle, with everything still ahead, and that quite dark undertone:
    ‘Fear and
    panic has yet to set a
    pathway through
    my neurons’.
    anchors you to experience.


  21. I recognize those bangs. Did we have the same Mom? I resonate with those last five lines. This is a revealing portrait.


  22. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

     /  August 2, 2016

    Hope and joy, by the look of that lovely little face!


  23. Beautiful poem. It’s sad that at a young age, children start to fear and to worry. I hope that child still has her bedimpled smile and hope. 🙂


  24. It’s Funny.. but really it’s
    not funny how much in school
    we tend learn the logical SonG
    but forget it seems so much more
    now than ever before.. iN the Art of HeARt..
    i remember the SMiLInG eYes oF i as child
    too.. and it was greAT thaT i had a photo of
    those eYes before adulterated
    by the logical SonG..
    and even science shows
    noW in Oh God.. duh ways.. that
    when systemizing mechanical reasoning
    cognition is used over social empathic
    creative artistic ways of moving..
    connecting.. and creating
    intelligence(s).. iT iS as
    iF the brain
    has two pipes..
    one gets clogged
    uP and the Love
    Leaves the
    oF NOW aS
    Being HUman heArt..
    iT’s trUly science and
    heArt too.. the HeArt is an
    EmotioNal Muscle thaT liVes
    from head to toe.. to use it is to
    make iT Strong.. Reslient.. and sMiLinG
    LiGhts of eYes and aLL oF Body Language
    courAge iN Fearless LiGht oF Love…
    Standard IQ.. mostly an invention
    of a few centuries now.. a poison
    pILL to the HearT of Love
    and thaT Pill continues
    to GroW unTiL
    the throat
    Love no
    Longer Breathes
    a SonG of HeART
    aS SpiRit eXpReSSinG
    a little child’s natural propensity..
    to move.. connect.. and create.. hand
    in hand forAginG ToGetHer for the
    meal aT hand thAT iS SaME
    aS LoVe..
    mY FriEnd..
    the ChILd of mY
    eYes iS back simply
    ’cause i murdered my
    Standard IQ.. as much
    as i could.. hehe.. but rears
    it’S ugly head.. as thaT is what
    18 or 19 years of school WiLL
    do as snaKe over hUman HeARt..
    along with decades of government
    work and all the work before thAT..
    i write poeTry to maKe the Muscle
    thaT reALLy counts breathe Brighter
    liGht than ever beFore.. sAMe WiTh DancE..
    mY FriEnd.. to work out the GreATest Muscle oF aLL..
    IS A Tower oF Love iN MoVinG.. ConnEcTing.. cREaTinG noW..:)


    • I do agree that there is much about our society that squashes the creativity and joy out of our hearts and intellects. Schools try to fit us all into very rigid molds giving no leeway for being an individual…it seems to be all about control. I could go into a long rant here but I won’t… Thanks for your thoughts here, Frederick. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  25. Oh to regain that innocence!


  26. So much joy and sparkle in those eyes. Hope can falter and fade but no one can take it away completely.


  27. Six is such an innocent age.



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