Letting Go
When a poem is written,
Released to be read,
It ceases to be mine alone.
Like a wayward child,
It speaks its mind
To all it encounters
And is changed forever:
I never meant that!
That’s not what I said.
Futile!
I gave it life,
Gave it wings,
And now must say goodbye.
It has its own life:
A purpose, a mission maybe.
And I, like every mother,
Wish it well, wave it off,
Shed a tear and hope at least
For a Christmas card
And flowers for Mother’s Day.
The Wild Sheep Society 
I love the ending.
How may I submit poetry to your blog. I am a published poet, Poems of Thunder
(Noir & Whimsy) @ publishamerica.com poetrypg 79, on Barnes&Noble & Amazom.com.
My E Mail address is carolbond3@verizon.net
How may I submit poetry to your blog? Author of Poems of Thunder (Noir & Whimsey) @ PublishAamerica.com pg 79 (poetry)
Email carolbond3@verizon.net
Hi Carol,
I’ve been unwell and so haven’t been replying to comments.
This is not a poetry blog as such, in the sense of publishing the poetry of others. I and the other author of this blog post from time to time things that we feel speak to the concept of Wild Sheep (see about page).
I’d be happy to provide a link or a shout out to your own blog though.
cheers,
Viv