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TIME COMES WITH PRICKLES by Edith Lazenby

I have never stopped writing though quiet to the public...

Life is ironic and feeling more than the usual "broken-mess" I continue to find myself again. With the love of a few, and a tenacity fewer know, I continue to grow through the sadness and nurture my grief so it can transform me. 





Time Comes with Prickles
by Edith Lazenby

Time comes with prickles
And petals.
Like a rose it grows,
Fragrant, promising,
Until it grows old.
And like a rose plucked
From the stem,
I wither. Petals drop
To the ground
And feet bury a softness
I knew to be true.
All that remains
Is a hope
Held in your care
That though I am old,
Used, tattered,
What touched a heart
Remains within
And when mine beats
And I imagine your eyes,
I will find those 
Roots that made me fine
And bloom again.





Edith Lazenby: “I love to write. I began writing poetry in elementary school. Sometimes I write poetry daily, other times not. I adore Mary Oliver, her way of embracing the light while acknowledging the darkness. I am a former Elephant Journal columnist and editor. I live in Baltimore, where dear friends help me help myself as I navigate addiction, loss, anger and find the way back to a faith all mine. Life is tough but I am growing tougher. The process of writing holds me and I find the craft teaches me something new each time. 





~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 

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