Happy New Year Poets!
- Thread starter WickedEve
- Start date
Lauren Hynde
Hitched
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2002
- Posts
- 21,061
Happy new year, Eve. And everyone else. I wish you all the best, this year and always.
(I'm on my fifth 2003 hour, already
)
Hugs
(I'm on my fifth 2003 hour, already
)Hugs
Last edited:
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,185
Happy New Year Dear Friends
I just finished my first poem of 2003! Thank you all for helping me grow in 2002; I'm looking forward to another year of friendship and poetry with you.
Love,
Angeline
Hand in Hand (finished at 12:10 a.m. est)
My hands have
captured Eastern Europe’s
dying light as it fled
across oceans.
(My grandfather’s
hands planted
the loss of generations
in flowers,
rooting permanence
from rootlessness.)
Now my hands
illuminate thought,
articulate grace in fingers
that curl insubstantial
carrying the invisible
power of words,
offering themselves
to you.
Your hands have
spent a lifetime learning
to savor the simple wisdom
of taste.
(Your grandmother’s
hands shaped
her distant language
into a wordless feast,
singing nourishment
in Bronx kitchen lullabies.)
Now your hands
satiate hunger,
feed kindness from palms
that offer openly
sharing the delicious
gift of sustenance,
taking my hands
in yours.
We give ourselves.
We honor the memory
of these lives together.
I just finished my first poem of 2003! Thank you all for helping me grow in 2002; I'm looking forward to another year of friendship and poetry with you.
Love,
Angeline
Hand in Hand (finished at 12:10 a.m. est)
My hands have
captured Eastern Europe’s
dying light as it fled
across oceans.
(My grandfather’s
hands planted
the loss of generations
in flowers,
rooting permanence
from rootlessness.)
Now my hands
illuminate thought,
articulate grace in fingers
that curl insubstantial
carrying the invisible
power of words,
offering themselves
to you.
Your hands have
spent a lifetime learning
to savor the simple wisdom
of taste.
(Your grandmother’s
hands shaped
her distant language
into a wordless feast,
singing nourishment
in Bronx kitchen lullabies.)
Now your hands
satiate hunger,
feed kindness from palms
that offer openly
sharing the delicious
gift of sustenance,
taking my hands
in yours.
We give ourselves.
We honor the memory
of these lives together.
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