Along with a group of about 100, I can proudly say I am a #1 bestselling author! We made it to #1 on Amazon!!
When I was first approached by Gabriela Marie Milton to contribute two poems to “Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women“, I was somewhat taken aback. “I’m a storyteller, not a poet” I said to myself. Although I have written a few poems, poetry is not my wheelhouse and I was reluctant to accept Gabriela’s offer. However, after learning what this anthology was about, I realized I could not refuse. I put pen to paper and imagined I was Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
To my amazement both my poems were accepted and now I can add poet to my resume! This has been a unique experience – both profoundly rewarding and humbling – and the subject is of utmost importance in our society today: the challenges women face and how they found the courage and strength to overcome them. If I should ever be asked again to contribute my poems, I will do so without hesitation.
I am a wife, a grandmother, a lover, a friend, a singer, a writer, a poet and a dreamer. I am a woman. I hope you enjoy the first of my two poems, Bird of Promise. Thank you for the privilege.
BIRD OF PROMISE
It was just a fling, just one of those things she fell upon
quite by accident with no intent of malice or harm.
She never meant for the strong desire so wrong to last so long.
No child, she. A life well spent with no sense
or scent of doubt or regret
for she was a one off, a rare and spirited
bird of promise in thought, action and word.
She knew herself better than any woman or man
who came to her with open heart and hand,
never afraid to take a stand,
without trying she could command
a room of strangers or friends
for she was the willow that always bends.
Never intimidated, she wouldn’t allow herself to be
berated, deflated, abused or humiliated.
Then this thing, this once in a lifetime fling
blossomed like the bouquets of spring,
bursting with an uncontrollable,
force she could not rein in.
How did she allow herself to be so exposed,
for him to see her inner core,
wanting and demanding more
than she could give or afford
while inflicting pain with nothing to gain
except stress and blame
and risking the loss of all things
she held near and dear,
her brightest inner flame.
Resolve restored she said
“No more!” She’d said it before,
two, three times, maybe four.
Get up off the floor, open the door;
be that bird of promise and soar.
This time she meant it but her heart was broken
and sore like those who suffered
the ravages of war.
She loved him;
that was her greatest sin.
NAR © 2022