Poetry War – Essense of Mom
Essence of Mom Swirls of pumpkin and rich brick-red drift on a warm, creamy breeze. with the far faint scent of talcum and rose in the folds of a soft cotton sleeve. Dipping… Continue reading
Essence of Mom Swirls of pumpkin and rich brick-red drift on a warm, creamy breeze. with the far faint scent of talcum and rose in the folds of a soft cotton sleeve. Dipping… Continue reading
My child begs for 1 more chance to ride the highest roller coaster. She wants to climb one more tree, to hear the sounds of playful laughter and listen to it echo off… Continue reading
New house, new life. Wisconsin in late summer. This is how I remember my daughter. Dresses, not pants. Purple, pink and pretty. This is how I remember the small child. Years… Continue reading
Emptiness, like a new kitchen depends on you to fill it. Clanging pots, clattering pans don’t drive off hunger. The cook does. Bake a life with the potential >>>’empty.’>>> given to… Continue reading
If I had a doll house it might look like this, with trees all around it and mountains in mist. I’d open the top up to place deep inside 2 dogs… Continue reading
Okay. So…I’m in OKC almost. Just outside OKC in an outpost. Also called a suburb. 10 foot ceilings, hovering artwork. Dark wood along the doorjamb. Laughter in the walls. Wind blows… Continue reading
Mirrors of our minds, the unwilling mother’s child reflecting their flaws.
http://www.napowrimo.net/ prompt Day 24: Write a poem that features walls, bricks, stones, arches, or the like. Sounds of Nat King Cole waft through 1954 “Smile though your heart is aching” straps clinging to… Continue reading
On my sons birthday I celebrate the Poet, Papa and Professor while still reserving the right to be a mom. You know what they say about mothers–we’re supposed to be embarrassing. He has a… Continue reading
I was checking out Granny K’s website and the idea for this blog popped into my mind when I read this quote: Garrison Keillor Nothing you do for children is ever wasted. They… Continue reading