Womensong

 
banner
 
*****

a simple vow

she sings their love story

long and sweet

*

her voice – a drone

 whispering a lullaby

until he sleeps

*

an empty space

she sings of what might have been

in his arms

*

to comfort the dying

her silent presence chants

all night long

*

how she honors the sun

trilling a sing-a-long

with the birds

 *

while binding wounds

she utters an ancient mantra

holy balm

*

how her lips

on the crook of his neck

croon softly

*

his anger circling

she sings to block out the truth

 her fate

*

clouds on the way

she hums a broken melody

until the storm passes

*

taking to her cave

she laments day and night

for what is lost

*

fist filled with notes

she murmurs a hymn of praise

for poetry

*

ten teeth missing

she burbles about old days

mouth wide open

****

©WabiSabi 2013

For the Sunday Whirl 108 – vow, drone, space, chants, sun, binding, crook, circling, broken, cave, fist, mouth.

Word Maven

                                  for VG

Her soft new-mommy cooing
sang babies into the world,
first sounds they  ever heard
a tone poem for a newborn.
 
 
Folding tiny hands steeple-like,
showing  how to call on God,
Our Father who art in heaven…
she prayed  a verse for the Creator.
 
 
Helping decode ‘Dick and Jane,’
‘The Pokey Little Puppy,’
‘The Five Hundred Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins’
it was word magic.
 
 
“Bring a new word to dinner every night,”
supper  was a  grandiose, bellicose, pandemonium,
with lallygagging whenever there was liver,
she cooked  up a word feast.
 
 
Lists organized her life,
a to-do list, a birthday list, a shopping list,
a ‘things I’ll never do’ list
  poetry for a housewife.
 
 
Her scribbled papers became a lifeline,
tethering scattered memory,
she buried  forgetfulness on a list
titled ‘tomorrow, maybe.’
 
 
Now words spill off the page
into the vault of locked -up memories                           
and there is no verse  to comfort,
no song for senility.
 
 
©WabiSabi 2012
 
 
Shared with Poets United