Sunday, October 21, 2012

A Poem by J.lynn Sheridan

Giver

The green plucked pumpkin
         steams in my pot
not for the cobbler but for the
                        cobblestones
painted with rust and toiled
                                            doilies.

I’ve seen the apple-skin-
                                                                           
                                    thin widow
lay her wishing head upon
              washed rags and
fossilled leaves

with
fresh blessings
          for her losses—
the etchings in her sandalled cheek

where cobblers and merchants tread
with heavy steps

unknowingly tapping stones
into old world
                 works of art
                  
fringed with prairie grass.
 
 
 
J.lynn Sheridan poems and writes in the Chain O’Lakes area of northern Illinois where she lives with her scruffy construction-guy husband and children, but she’d rather live in an old hardware store for the aroma and ambiance. Her poems can most recently be found in Beyond the Dark Room (an international poetry anthology), a Poetic Bloomings’ anthology , MouseTail Press and her blog, https://writingonthesun.wordpress.com and @J.lynnSheridan.

8 comments:

  1. Nice... I especially like the first stanza and how it sounds read aloud.

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  2. Great images . . . "lay her wishing head upon washed rags and fossilled leaves"! Fabulous, way to go!

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  3. great imagery. easy to picture the the widow!

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  4. The images, internal rhyme, overall sound and flow of this piece are all just fantastic, Janice.

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  5. well done Janice ... a great write ... this just sings, and the pictures you paint are alive "the etchings in her sandalled cheek" caught me in particular ...

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  6. Nice one. My favorite:
    "unknowingly tapping stones
    into old world
    works of art"
    Beautiful imagery.

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  7. Vividly wonderful. I like the surprise element in not for the cobbler but for the cobblestones" . :)

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  8. Thanks for all your kind comments. It's so touching to read them.

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