This is my first poem for many months, perhaps well over a year so I apologise for the crudity.
Kite
Tattered, bruised, broken
Was how I saw you first -
Seemingly irrevocable.
You had been dragged,
Shattered and split apart
By ill use and hard wear.
Every bush and briar
Had piereced with thorns
Your fragile, slender frame.
You were flimsy and tender;
Recklessly throwing shapes
In the indifferent breeze.
You flirted and bumped
With all the clouds
That came your way.
It seemed you'd never fly,
Never reach the heights
You were destined to reach.
With care, and a lot of love
We took in hand this wreck
And repaired the damage,
Patched every wound.
The scars remained
But the shame was less.
It was a labour of love:
I was protective of you
And sought all means
To maintain the care,
The nuturing I'd spent
To give you a chance
To one day fly again.
When it came it was
Unexpected...
The cord was in my hand
The wind was too strong
To hold you back
From riding the storm.
I feared it was too much,
Too soon to test
Your new-found strength.
I held my grip firmly
But you were too
Determined
Too eager
To fly.
Now I look to to the sky,
My hand still grasping -
Looking every so often
To see from the midst
Of the weathering storm
A glimpse, one last look,
Before you finally decide
To sail alone the skyway
And leave me holding
Nothing but the ends
Of a once close bond.