Walk Through My Open Door...: My Mother

Monday, January 3, 2005

My Mother

"A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed in the sun..." Rev 12:1, NAB She came The moment She heard Me cry. “Shh. Mommy’s here.” I left a Dirty handprint On her mantle When she Rocked me To sleep. Sign in to see full entry.

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January 2005
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About this Blog

...and experience poetry. Poetry comes in many forms; the complex simplicity of a haiku; the rhythmic percussion of blank verse; unusual and inventive free verse; sonnets, villanelles, limericks. It's "a language within a language (Paul Valery)." It's an adventure.

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