Compassion for what’s far away

Oh my children, why?
are you complaining, falling, screaming
when i need your help
with Borrioboola-Gha, the venture
for which our funds have dwindled.

Oh my children now be silent
I have letters, motions, ink on paper
to win support for Borrioboola-Gha
for the heathens, souls of south
we still can save.

Oh my child, you are too selfish
how can you marry
when we have meetings, tea to drink
to benefit the mission
in Borrioboola-Gha?

Oh my children don’t you see,
compassion growing for
the places where you never been?

A second Persona poem for KB’s prompt at dVerse to write a persona poem. I took the persona of Mrs Jellyby in Charles Dicken’s novel Bleak House.

January 12, 2015

17 responses to “Compassion for what’s far away

  1. I admire the voice specially the refraining line of My child/children ~ It is hard to grow compassion for those far away places ~

  2. I never read that book by Dickens but Mrs. Jellyby sounds like an intriguing person. I liked your repetition, it heightened the feeling of beseeching her people to support her.

  3. Had to refresh my memory of “Bleak House”. Mrs Jellyby, I gather, worried about the natives of Borrioboola-Gha in Nigeria while her own children fell into the grate. After that, those “Oh my children” lines really sprung from the page. It’s true, I have seen this many times in my life – especially in the non-existent parenting of so-called concerned citizens and local politicos whose own children are totally lost, messed up and careening towards the next horror of their own making.

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