She is not
Our Lady of pursed lips
and rosaries clenched
tightly into fists
what pilgrims
could ever
take their rest
in a mother with arms
folded tight
‘cross her chest
It was she
when His hour
had not yet come
who overruled the
exasperated
no of her Son
And today, praise be!
Ignoring those
robed men of Rome,
she welcomes
another
teenage mom’s
child
to her home
Our Lady of pursed lips
and rosaries clenched
tightly into fists
what pilgrims
could ever
take their rest
in a mother with arms
folded tight
‘cross her chest
It was she
when His hour
had not yet come
who overruled the
exasperated
no of her Son
And today, praise be!
Ignoring those
robed men of Rome,
she welcomes
another
teenage mom’s
child
to her home
Liked the way it flows. You are one good writer.
ReplyDeleteYou have the gift, Erin. Truly, you have the gift.
ReplyDeleteYour endings always surprise and delight me.
ReplyDeleteWow. That is powerful, Erin. I so agree with ds. Wish you'd send this to the White House, seriously.
ReplyDeleteOh, this is awesome!!
ReplyDeletesuch a great flow and I love the "peeking under the robes" of it! bravo!
another nicely written poem Erin
ReplyDeleteThank you for the positive feedback, everybody. It means so much because I admire all of your work very much!
ReplyDeleteLydia--Hmmm. I'll think about sending this to the White House.