Today's assignment: Write a poem that is a 'portrait' (not necessarily describing looks) of a person important to you. Wow, it might take a long time to zero in on just one. For some reason, it occurs to me to write about someone who once was, but no longer is.
When I Needed You
It was then, on the cusp of adulthood
You were always there when I needed you,
Learning to spread my wings would have been good,
You were always there when I didn't, too.
It was there, in the unguarded moments,
You were very there when I needed space,
accompanying my ordinary
You were also there when I needed grace.
Despite the time I poured milk in your lap,
always there when I needed rescue, truly.
Careening into cusp of adulthood,
you were there to consider options, coolly....
{rough draft of first verses, more to come and be revised.}.
You were important to me then, not now,
no, not even then, not now, not ever,
I'll forget you til memory fades forever.
you were never that important to me.
--Shirley Smith Franklin
Good bye.
Typically spare, bare, my poetry. How can I infuse metaphor, color, gut-feeling into this poem which is like so many of mine, presented in the abstract, with not a whole lot of context to draw upon....Although the subject is a therapeutic one for me...helping me offload nagging negative memories that only time has lessened so far.
It looks like it wants to be disciplined into a 'form,' a form that nags at you, yet ends with a resolve... too...I will want to follow up on this one.
When I Needed You
It was then, on the cusp of adulthood
You were always there when I needed you,
Learning to spread my wings would have been good,
You were always there when I didn't, too.
It was there, in the unguarded moments,
You were very there when I needed space,
accompanying my ordinary
You were also there when I needed grace.
Despite the time I poured milk in your lap,
always there when I needed rescue, truly.
Careening into cusp of adulthood,
you were there to consider options, coolly....
{rough draft of first verses, more to come and be revised.}.
You were important to me then, not now,
no, not even then, not now, not ever,
I'll forget you til memory fades forever.
you were never that important to me.
--Shirley Smith Franklin
Good bye.
Typically spare, bare, my poetry. How can I infuse metaphor, color, gut-feeling into this poem which is like so many of mine, presented in the abstract, with not a whole lot of context to draw upon....Although the subject is a therapeutic one for me...helping me offload nagging negative memories that only time has lessened so far.
It looks like it wants to be disciplined into a 'form,' a form that nags at you, yet ends with a resolve... too...I will want to follow up on this one.
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