Gifts

We're challenged today to write a poem about a handmade gift we've received. I know exactly the gift I will always treasure...

Paper flower

It was a bad morning –

I was older

and Dad wasn't home

I wished the day away

without fuss,

without incident,

without acknowledgement

But my sister 

came into my room,

paper flower in hand,

twisted onto a green pipe cleaner –

she thought it'd cheer me up

Bittersweet tears filled my eyes;

how such simple 

pink and blue tissue paper

could humble so

and make me so grateful

all at once

That precious paper flower –

the best birthday gift ever

Andrea Vermaak © 2020 

A triolet of gratitude

Today's challenge is to write a triolet. It consists of eight lines, repetition and only two rhymes throughout. I am going to attempt a poem of gratitude as it is Easter Sunday...

He rose again

On this day, He rose again,

The stone was rolled away,

He suffered agony and pain;

On this day, He rose again;

Crucified but for our gain,

Our gratitude we show today,

On this day, He rose again,

The stone was rolled away.

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Gratitude

Today, I want to express my gratitude for the small things that make me happy. Even the small things can place our lives in perspective when we think of those who do not have them...

I am grateful

I am grateful for the air I breathe

And the soft light of the winter morning sun

While many choke on fumes of mustard gas

And hide in the darkness of their fears

I am grateful for the lizards in my garden

And the moths around my front door light

While many feet will never feel grass again

And never breathe in the sweetness of flowers

I am grateful for my tiny flat

And my family ten minutes away

While many live alone in blasted concrete shells

That were once there homes

I am grateful for my morning coffee

And sad songs on the radio

While many will never taste,

Nor hear sweet melodies again

I am grateful for laughter

And great slices of creamy cake

While a smile is but a distant memory

For those who cry from hunger

I am grateful for sad movies

And friends who cry with me

Yet we could never understand

The pain of those who have nothing left

Andrea Vermaak