Miriam marcia



Mother from prayer to kitchen, my mother was like you
Inspiration of decent values, balming pain with them
Respect is due to your endeavours, love your point of view
Intelligent and yet not over-assertive, love's true gem
Affectionate in passion, giver of self to beauty's core
Minstrel of my life. Woman, you are worthy to adore.

Memories like wind from the bushes bring fragrance of joy
Alert in the spirit, powerful in the realm of flesh
Reign queen of my heart, I pray nothing more your days annoy
Caress your dreams, soar where the frantic waters thresh
Invite love again - I bring it open hearted like a chalice of wine
Adoring you sweet hearted that in suffering stay so divine.
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Submitted on July 07, 2013

Modified on March 05, 2023

36 sec read
1

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABABCC DEDEFF
Closest metre Iambic heptameter
Characters 674
Words 121
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 6, 6

David Smalling

I have been writing poems since I was 12 years; but writing had been my blanket for loneliness since age 11. My father died when I was 13 and poetry was my therapy for pain since then. Only I wanted the world to think, feel, laugh, but not cry. I had been forgotten in the grief of my father's death because everyone else needed the consolation I did not get. I became the even more the withdrawn loner, and saw a world more aggressively hostile. Books became my better friend and drove me deeper into academic seclusion. I wrote thousands of poems everywhere: on rocks, trees, sand, and all over house and school - this was how I interrogate the world, and how I weep alone. Poetry was my quest and comfort. I trusted paper and pen and spoke my truths to them above all else. Yes, I am graduate, a business major, a science major, an humanities major ... still searching for consolation, love, security, and joy obtained in poetry. Then again Jamaica is such an ideal place to live as a poet; the history and memories, juxtaposed against the world, is pure inspiration. more…

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