A Colourful Woman


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Recently, someone very dear to me passed and I am struggling with the surreality of it… and the grief, mine as well as that of my dear friend. You see, she was the mother of my friend who I have known since grade three… but she was more than that. She was my “other” mother.

I wanted to do something at the memorial to show how much that she meant to me. I felt that I should get up to say a few words to tell everyone the positive influence that she had had on my life, to tell everyone how much I appreciated her and to say thank you to her for being my creative mentor. I struggled with this for a couple of weeks and the words just wouldn’t come. What did come were little snippets of memories and swirling phrases. This poem is the result of those memories and phrases in my attempt to capture the essence of this Colourful Woman.


A Colourful Woman

Vivid colors of a woman
Golden threads of a life
Woven in love
Mother, daughter, sister, wife

Misty memories in mauve
Soft petals of pink
Sweet smelling Lilacs
by the kitchen sink

A star-studded sky
A lady in white
Bobbing for apples
on an inky black night

Bright pink Hibiscus
on a flowing blue dress
So many memories
Truly, I’m blessed

You’re in My Heart
Forever Young
Yellow silk pants
and the way that they hung

Piles of bright fabric
on tables and chairs
Dried flower arrangements
and mohair bears

Laughter and tears
and Needles and Pins
A safe place for all
to be creative in

A splash of red
for creativity
A passion ignited
You sparked it in me

By example you taught
“be unique and be bold”
And purple is the color
to wear when you’re old

So many inspired
So many who loved her
This colorful woman
was my “other mother”

Life is hard sometimes… really hard but in order to get through the grief and process the pain, we have to feel it all the way through.

There is a crack in everything… that’s how the light gets in. ~ Leonard Cohen


Finding the Funny

The mistletoe hung
in hopes of some kissing
The turkey was stuffed
 but my band-aid was missing
 Out came the stuffing 
just to be sure
That’s when I saw it
 on the kitchen floor
Yesterday, my day started out with my own personal grief and then as the tragic events in Connecticut unfolded in the media, I was joined by many others. I had to dig deep to find the funny but I am a true believer in the healing power of laughter so I decided to look to the Ghost of Christmas Past to provide me with the memory of a chuckle.
This poem as written in response to this week’s prompt at Trifecta:

For many of us, the holiday season is in full force.  Which can be amazing, overwhelming, exhausting and even depressing.  I re-discovered the magic by recalling my favorite holiday movie, Elf.  The wacky humor and the irrepressible optimist, Buddy the elf, can melt the cold, black heart of the Grinchiest of us.  And make us laugh until we turn the snow yellow.

This weekend we’re asking you to write 33 words that will make us laugh or smile.  Even a chuckle will do.  We look forward to the communal spirit lifting.  Good luck!


A Fresh, New Person

I wrote this poem a year ago as we waited for my grandson to be born.  Looking back, I realize it is a little hopeful….
A little girl waits
for a fresh, new beginning.
Waves of pain flow over her
washing her clean
She longs to separate his body from hers
only to keep him forever close
She longs to hold him in her arms
and gaze at his fresh, new face
She readies herself and
lays out his clean, white clothes
Clothes befitting of a fresh, new person
“He will match his outfit”, she says
As he emerges from her body
he will wipe the slate clean
He will be her bridge over rivers of hurt
her antidote to a poisoned heart
He will quell her anger
and quiet her soul
She will emerge from the waters
with her youth dripping from her
No longer a little girl, but a woman
A fresh, new woman