Thursday, December 26, 2013

A Solitary Figure


With nightfall swiftly approaching,
The air felt crisp and cold.
A solitary figure was wandering,
So frail, so tired, so old.

Fluttering in the blowing wind
her threadbare cloak of blue
was threatening now to come unpinned
Oh what was she to do?

This poor dear homeless vagabond
without a friend in sight,
wondered if someone would respond
if she called out tonight.

How did she end up in this place
of sorrow and of pain?
Did God somehow run out of grace?
Was her hope all in vain?

Surely some soul would come along
to see her dire need,
and take her where she could belong,
a loving home indeed.

Suddenly she stumbled, so faint
having gone without food,
when gentle arms without complaint
her fall he did preclude.

Dear mother, why are you alone
on this cold winter night?
My loving family back at home
will aid you in your plight.

Gratefully giving her assent,
she leaned into his chest
He lifted her with the intent
to take her home to rest.

How that woman did rejoice
to feel this family's love!
They cared for her, she found a voice
to thank the Lord above.

Living out her final days
in comfort and in peace,
with these dear loving folks she stays,
and now has found release.

Oh God, please open up our eyes
to those who are in need.
Give grace that we may now arise,
and share with those who plead.



This poem was inspired by a prompt from 40 Days of Poetry and Story Sessions.  The prompt was to use the words blue, vagabond and wandering in a poem.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

My Friend Poetry

I have just joined the 40 Days of Poetry group that Jamie has been participating in since the beginning of December. Today's prompt was: "write a poem about your love affair with poetry. When did you two meet? What was it like? "    So this is my attempt to respond to the prompt.

Oh Poetry, oh Poetry,
When did we first meet?
Was it on my mother’s knee
As she taught me how to read?


Was it in my first grade class
Or second, third, or fourth
That we became the best of friends
And stayed together more and more?


Remember when I worked so hard
To memorize and recite
That poem of many stanzas
That brought us such delight?


Oh, Poetry, dear Poetry,
We had good times together
Over Tennyson and the Brownings
And so very many more,


Reading poems to my children,
To the girls and then the boys,
From funny, silly limericks
To longer epic poems.


Remember how I thought and thought
Of just the right words to say
When I wrote the special poetry
On Mother’s and Father’s Days?


Oh Poetry, sweet Poetry,
Even when I forgot you
You were there behind the scenes
Waiting patiently for my return.


It seems I have discovered anew
My love for the poetic word.
You have welcomed me back
With open arms to the place where I belong.


Now we can make more memories
As we read and write together.
And our lives will be made better,
In bringing joy to many others.