She coddled me.
Me but a young thing,
slip of the wisp.
Pampered my almost every wish.
Lately ‘tis inside out.
She, skeletal slip of the wisp.
Crepe skin
craving coddled touch.
Lipstick smeared wide,
clown visage
with vacant eyes.
Lit by absent apparition.
Quadrille written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where the word prompt is “coddle.” Quadrille: poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Fictional poem, but all too true for so many.
lillian the home poet 
Beautiful. Said with truth and compassion. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So late to reading replies here……thank you for your response.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The coddling goes both ways.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It does indeed, Frank. Many of us are put in the situtation of becoming the “parent” to our parents as they age.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Marvelous. Sincere tribute to, for ones elders. 😎🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. So glad you enjoyed!
LikeLike
Lill, this is simply beautiful.
I love this, in particular:
“She, skeletal slip of the wisp.
Crepe skin
craving coddled touch.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am so late to the reading…..travel and guests. I am delighted to have my mornings again for dverse so just catching up. I loved using this word. Interesting you landed on these words within the poem. I just reread the poem and…..I think I should have actually ended with these words and left out the last stanza. Hindsight 🙂
LikeLike
How much all is reversed… I see my mother here… the passing of time
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. In my mother’s last year, there was a role reversal and I found myself parenting her. I do believe that touch plays such an important role when we are infants….and in our final years, moments on this earth.
LikeLike