She speaks of gifts by O.P.W. Fredericks

She speaks of gifts
for Patricia Wallace Jones

There’s sparkle in her eye, still
a glint of yesterday, the memories
she keeps in faith, to share
while on the brae,
like emery’s abrasive touch
life’s not a grand bouquet.

When on she hints from time to time,
in rhyme or verse, a line
or two, hold fast youth’s prime
and spring’s first wine
for with years comes more brine
than brew.

Ne’er at a loss to speak her mind
she tends our dreams and souls in kind
and shares her wisdom
gained in spite of bitter ills
she’s faced in plight.

The weight her words of life
betray the spark behind her eyes
convey and so we ponder on
in time her rhyme, her verse, yes, line
by line, her voice
like bells, so soothing,
the meaning hidden deep within
and wonder
at her smoothing.

by O.P.W. Fredericks

Editor’s Note: After yesterday’s poem, this poem falls easy on the ear and mind. (Can a poem be an ode to another? I say yes.)

From the archives – Hang Son Doong by O.P.W. Fredericks

Hang Son Doong

And the earth heaved a sigh
when I came into knowing
what is yet to come

. . . . . . . .before time was time

I’ve felt the fall of rain
the warmth of sun
as it lolled across the sky
teased my face
and my shallows with life
tender roots
that plucked at my skin
and tickled my soul

. . . . . . . .and you thought to look

tread gently as you go
there’s much much more
you’re not ready to know

. . . . . . . .I’ve kept secrets

from Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, March 30, 2015 —by O.P.W. Fredericks

Video courtesy of Ryan Deboodt

Hang Son Doong by O.P.W. Fredericks

Hang Son Doong

And the earth heaved a sigh
when I came into knowing
what is yet to come

. . . . . . . .before time was time

I’ve felt the fall of rain
the warmth of sun
as it lolled across the sky
teased my face
and my shallows with life
tender roots
that plucked at my skin
and tickled my soul

. . . . . . . .and you thought to look

tread gently as you go
there’s much much more
you’re not ready to know

. . . . . . . .I’ve kept secrets

by O.P.W. Fredericks

Editor’s Note: Some things in this world are too vast to truly comprehend. This cave is one of those things. This ekphrastic poem mimics the incomprehensible size of Hang Son Doong with pieces of emotional imagery (sun, skin, rain) and grounds it within the awe we all feel in the face of such secretive wonder.