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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

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An inscription found in an old book. From an unknown mother to a son. The inscription dated December, 1908, was discovered in a purchase at a used book sale, The poem was written in 2017.



An inscription on the inside flyleaf

On a dusty, yellowed page,

From many decades long since passed

To the child of a forgotten age.


Handwritten from his mother then

Some hundred and plus years gone,

This book, by chance, now in my care,

And Mother, surely now passed on.


I considered the writer, the given gift

From the mother, to her child,

Written on the page, December 1908,

I read it twice and again, and I smiled.


How many Christmases had since passed

How many long, hot summer days,

Since then and now, have come and gone,

Yet, still this written greeting stays.


I gently put the book away

Shut, and placed it upon the shelf,

But could not help this feeling of

The connection of those to myself.


And so our lives, just like theirs

Here for such a length, it seems,

We live and love, we choose our course

But our lives are merely dreams.

Submitted: May 18, 2020

© Copyright 2023 J.D. Wilson. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:



wow.... I like this.... great write.

Tue, May 19th, 2020 8:02am


Very well done. Kind of reminds me of the terseness expressed on certain obituaries, along with the fragments of peoples lives expressed on certain tombstones. {those of course were negatives while your expression and her poem were positives}.

Wed, October 12th, 2022 11:43am


Thank you very much.

Wed, October 12th, 2022 1:52pm

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