Pieface Unleashed

A label once conferred in teasing love and adolescent humour has a way of clinging to the mind of the giftee. Over a half-century of time can pass, the label long sublimated; other more timely labels appended to last their time and then disappear. At some time or other thoughts suddenly drift upward from soul to mind and one recalls. What was sweet and quaint becomes peculiarly apt to a situation and the label becomes an identifier.

Call me and I shall respond. I am what you make of me. I am here.

We were children together. We came together, we met one another's needs, we matured and became together what we now are.

Here it is! The very last poem in the book. How would I know, I haven't looked at it for decades, wrote it so very long ago in memory of what we were back then when time began for us. Here I am:

Nomenclator

When we were young
you called me pieface
and mooncow. Later
my name was dear and honey
although I was still
myself.

After
I was Lilith
fecund Gaia. Soon
I became fondly mumsie
until our children
became old enough to name

me themselves. Before
I know it another
metamorphosis will take
place as our
children's children

lisp me Gran'ma.
Somehow it seems I've
only been
what others in their
need have named.