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:
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.
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
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.
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..
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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