A Special Knowing

 

 

Some sounds cannot communicate,

Frustration writ upon her face,

One in class of only eight.

Disability, no disgrace.

 

His features formed in such a way,

Some may shun, avoid,

But hugs and cuddles and to play

Wants this gorgeous little boy.

 

Others too, though less severe,

Outwith my thirty years.

One day spent with angels who

Reduced my heart to tears.

 

They taught me more compassion

In the hours I spent with them.

For me, a timely lesson

In a different sort of pain.

 

A superior sort of knowing

In singular children who

Require some special teaching.

All involved, so extraordinary. And I bow to you.