Wednesday, March 16, 2016

March 3, 2016 Poets United Midweek motif/ Our Lady of Sorrows (You are my Own)

Our Lady of Sorrows (You are my Own)

started out as most children do       a lovely small child        loved by everyone who saw her

the apple of her mothers eye      everyone commented on her beauty        she stepped across

sorrows                                       like skipping                       across stones in the stream

never getting her slippers wet      she took each sorrow         folded them into her pack

like collecting bones in the desert       rarely complained   kept her words in a small bundle

near her heart                               hidden by her smile                                a passerby 

would never know                        could not guess                                      most days

were a series of memories            recalled what happened                        a silent dread 

the daggers that pierced her heart      the wounds that bled                       the mother may i

please be with me when i die             sister of mercy                                love's sweet song 

queen of heaven                                 our lady of sorrows                         you are my own



March 3, 2016

5 comments:

  1. This is so sweet, Annell..and sad......our lady of sorrows.....the memory of that sweet happy child, then later folding her sorrows inside......all the pain that life brings. Sigh.

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  2. a silent dread

    the daggers that pierced her heart
    the wounds that bled
    the mother may i
    please be with me when i die

    These lines brought tears to my eyes..
    Beautifully written.

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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  3. WOW! " the apple of her mothers eye everyone commented on her beauty she stepped across sorrows like skipping across stones in the stream"

    The horrors that saints live through are brought to poetry in this poem. I'm sure there are more unknown than known--like the unknown soldier. Thank you.

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  4. Those slippers and bones in a pack so heavy to bear..such a brilliant poem Annell - i could feel her steps..the weight and the burden - especially of that smile..

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  5. Annell, I am in love love love with this form of three phrases, spilling out over the page. The "stepping across sorrows," a powerful image. Well done you! Amy

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