I cannot weave a tapestry,
Whose vibrant colors gleam.
But I can thread a needle.
And sew a little seam.
I have no silver notes to turn
into a lovely song.
But I can sit and listen
To the Tune and hum along.
by Grace E. Easley
This poem came from a
tiny minature book entitled
"The Gift of Life". It belonged
to my grandmother. Her
generation read and created poems.
I don't see or hear poetry anymore.
Where have they disappeared to?
It was important
to their generation but
Did it disappear onto the web? Perhaps
the problem lies with me.
4 comments:
Hello Ruth was lovely that you dropped into my little blog.You have a new follower now xx
Hi Ruth, this post is so lovely.X
Thanks for your comment on my little poem, Ruth! Interesting post you have here this morning. UNfortunately, I can think of a limerick for almost any subject - and also other poems. They just pop into my head. That's not always a good thing, for they're hardly ever serious. :-)
Actually, I need to do some reading of REAL poetry this winter, the kind that makes one ponder. Thanks for this post.
What a lovely little poem. I had a book entitled Best Loved Poems bought for me last Christmas. It has lots of well known poems in it, as well as some lesser known ones.
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