Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Wednesday, October 30, 2019

OctPoWriMo #30: Me

These are my hands, not privileged,
gnarled with seven and a half decades of living,
maybe at a slightly slower pace, yet
ready to work, reach out, embrace,
not alone, but connected
to circles of family, writers, quilters,
and that sense that cherishes
each morning: for I am still here,
facing down that blank page
and writing.

Hand of an Elderly Woman (Pixabay)

Tomorrow's prompt: Finding Peace.

You can visit OctPoWriMo at http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written and for writing prompts for tomorrow's poem. Why not join in? You still have one more day!

Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow, Michelle Vecchitto, Esther Jones, and Maria L. Berg for hosting this month-long poetry challenge.


6 comments:

  1. Love this. It has a certain rhythm, like life itself. And good job with the subliminal rhyming. "Facing down that blank page" - know what that's like and mostly I just avoid it. It's been great reading your words in this challenge. And thank you for commenting on my blogs so often. We have made some sort of connection. It's good.

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  2. You have created a lovely little world for yourself... and a quilter as well !All sounds very Anne of Green Gables to We of the Never Never people:)I think I will do this again next year. Thank you for your generous comment.

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  3. This poem is aesthetically beautiful! You created a stunning image with your words. What a pleasure to know you Beth,on this annual challenge. :)

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  4. What lovely hands that reach out, toil and embrace! Beautiful.

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  5. Those last three lines: yesyesYES!

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  6. Loved this. Hands can say so much, they have the power to show kindness or harshness.

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