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What Is It About Her Poetry
What is it about her poetry
That holds me in its spell
Is it her rhyme in metered time
That draws me in so well?
Or is it the words she chooses
To place upon the page
That builds the tower where stands her power
To exact from me this wage?
She always speaks of Mother
The one to whom I'm son
And it's so clear that I do hear
What her words have begun.
She is an able gardener
Who makes the flowers grow
Throughout the gift through which I shift
To see her colours flow.
This is beautiful. I swear, if it wasn't for the words
that I see at this website....I'd have next to a meaningless
existence. *trying to explain*.....I see words that I write,
and they all depict my moods and fears and wishes....when
I see other's 'moods' and fears and wishes....I feel something
like a kinship...am I making sense yet? LOL I'm glad there
are people like myself in this world....I'm not alone. =O)
'She is an able gardener
Who makes the flowers grow
Throughout the gift through which I shift
To see her colours flow'
Wonderfully poetic in its imagery, this, I believe is my favourite stanza. Beautiful work!
- Essie =)
Michael, I had hoped to find something new here today, but I was not prepared for the wealth I've found. These verses are a treasure and as always I leave your page refreshed and inspired. Thank you.
Jessica