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...
Women's Spiritual Poetry