Wordsmithing Word Pictures that Give Back!
The 30 Poems in November challenge has begun! I am about 60% to my goal, which is so wonderful! I give thanks to all who are supporting my efforts, both financially and emotionally/spiritually!
As promised, I am posting some of the poems I have written thus far. Thanks to Robert Lee Brewer from Poetic Asides for all the great prompts! Enjoy!
If you want to contribute to the 30 Poems in November fundraiser, you can click on the link at the upper right hand corner of the page, or send me a note and I will let you know how to snail mail the donation.
A Piece of
Home
The edges were frayed after years of use,
much like Momma’s nerves on days when the four of us
were more than she could handle.
The colors, though, stood bright and clear
as the moment they were patched,
one piece – after – another.
Wrapped in it, I always felt safe –
like this bit of cloth and threads had magic
that not only kept me from the pain and suffering
of being poor and of Irish decent,
but also connecting me to those who braved it all
to come, far from their green fields, rock walls and thatched cottages.
Closing my eyes against the now,
I could escape to the realm of fairy folk and Celtic queens
with long black hair, like Momma’s
and eyes as verdant as the mountains of Wicklow.
© Linda M. Rhinehart Neas 2014
As promised, I am posting some of the poems I have written thus far. Thanks to Robert Lee Brewer from Poetic Asides for all the great prompts! Enjoy!
If you want to contribute to the 30 Poems in November fundraiser, you can click on the link at the upper right hand corner of the page, or send me a note and I will let you know how to snail mail the donation.
Namasté!
The edges were frayed after years of use,
much like Momma’s nerves on days when the four of us
were more than she could handle.
The colors, though, stood bright and clear
as the moment they were patched,
one piece – after – another.
Wrapped in it, I always felt safe –
like this bit of cloth and threads had magic
that not only kept me from the pain and suffering
of being poor and of Irish decent,
but also connecting me to those who braved it all
to come, far from their green fields, rock walls and thatched cottages.
Closing my eyes against the now,
I could escape to the realm of fairy folk and Celtic queens
with long black hair, like Momma’s
and eyes as verdant as the mountains of Wicklow.
© Linda M. Rhinehart Neas 2014
Result
Purple heather carpets
spread from stone wall to stone wall -
herds of sheep
scattered like crumbs across the peat bog -
crystal blue lakes
nestled within the bosom of ancient mountains -
sun and clouds
creating chromatic curves that startle the senses -
The utter joy
that fills my soul is beyond measure.
© Linda M.
Rhinehart Neas 2014
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