…to give unto them
beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise
for the spirit of heaviness…
from Isaiah 61: 3 (KJV)
Image courtesyof doverpublications.com.
From Full-Color Allover Patterns.
Category: Hope
Tanka By Carol Purington
From my friend the pilgrim
Mardi Gras beads
wrapped around
her favorite recipe
for communion bread
Winter sky
the holy blue distance
of eternity
all day on my friend’s forehead
the smudge of Ash Wednesday
By Carol Purington
Posted with her kind permission.
All Rights Reserved.
Morning Song: Poems For New Parents is Carol’s latest book, and is edited with Susan Todd (2011, St. Martin’s Press, New York).
Image courtesy of wpclipart.com.
Longer Light
Spring will return
here and there
and then I’ll say,
“When did this happen?”
Today, though, I rest
in longer light
on evergreens
in a tiny bit of wind
Image courtesy of antiqueclipart.com.
Looking Forward
looking forward
to the future
turning my calendar
to February
a day early
Image courtesy of
antiqueclipart.com.
Old Wood In The House
strong winter winds
old wood in the house
ceilings, floors, walls
startling me in the early hours
speaking to me this day
resilience
strength
the way
Hope holds
My Soul … As A Weaned Child Psalm 131
Today is the 8th anniversary of my mother’s passing. I am full of memories, from all the years we had together on this blessed earth. We shall meet again. Love endures.
PSALM 131: 1-2 (KJV)
Lord, my heart is not haughty,
nor mine eyes lofty: neither do I
exercise myself in great matters,
or in things too high for me.
Surely I have behaved and quieted
myself, as a child that is weaned of
his mother: my soul is even as a
weaned child.
Image courtesy of antiqueclipart.com.
The Parade – A Poem By Win Couchman
The Parade
Dinner over, we
amble past the library,
turn left and begin
our journey.
In the hall we join the
residents’ parade.
Tall guy, bent a bit,
hiking with his cane.
Fellow travelers in
chairs, walkers with,
without oxygen.
Women, pretty, plain,
white haired, oftener
than not not coupled.
Progress to D-20 moistens
my eyes, emotions,
mind tangle squeeze
and expand.
As of today, my
walker is in my closet.
Bob and I hold
hands, walk home.
Win Couchman, 11/11.
All Rights Reserved.
Posted here with Win’s kind permission.
Poems From Oostburg, Wisconsin 