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La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart

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Cherokee Rose
by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart

Monday, May 12, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
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           >> View all 879

Art "Morning Tears"
By John Guthrie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cherokee Rose
By La Belle Rouge

In Honor Of My Cherokee Ancestors


When the wind moans in the tall pines
and rushes like a lost spirit through hollows
you can hear their voices, the ancient ones
in a language long forgotten, unspoken
good years recorded only in souls and books
the joys of freedom and brotherhood
but unspeakable the sorrows of later years
when the people like cattle were herded
far from valleys of their blue mountains
down a torturous trail of too many tears

Our young ones hungered and gray ones
died along the path, too weary to go on
with trust forsaken, hearts too broken
to force themselves to believe again
in pale ones who broke every promise
betrayed each treaty they had signed
they took away our land, our tongue
our faith, the worship of our god,
our customs, even our children’s names
they thought to make us like them
but always thought us less than them

Savages they called us, ignorant, evil
and yet, who invaded our peaceful place
and how many among them would not fight
for their land, their women and young?
which of them would so peacefully bow
beneath the yoke of injustice and deceit?
along the path where death overtook us
there blooms forevermore a reminder
the Cherokee Rose, sprung from the ground
where bitter tears and scarlet blood
of the suffering red man fell like rain
pure white her blooms and deep her roots
amid wasteland and barren rocks she grows
for what the Great Spirit plants will live on
in wastelands and broken hearts forever

5/12/2008 La Belle Rouge

“Poetry, Soul Whispers”

Music "Lakota"



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Reviewed by Bernice Lakota 5/24/2008
What a great and mighty tribute...It reminds me of my husbands ancestors, the Lakotas, I feel like I've become part of that history, and what an honorable and beautiful one your Cheroke rose is...
Reviewed by A PAX 5/23/2008
both poetry and music grabbed me from the start, this is great.......I love this, pax A
Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader) 5/19/2008
You certainly know how to make it become real! love holly
Reviewed by Dark Knight 5/15/2008
Lovely words-I notice it says May 12 is when you posted the poem-where have you been the last few days? Not to mention no emails for quite a while either but I guess you're busy like all of us
Reviewed by Kate Burnside 5/14/2008
This is so vivid and potent, Belle. I read it as if through flames somehow, speaking a spirit truth and rekindling the history as if it is in the now. The presence and actuality in this piece is rich, the soil of these poetic plains is fertile. The spirit of the Cherokee Rose is enduring and fragrant. You speak here with the full bloom and beauty of your heart and soul. And amazing testament. Bless you, Kate xx
Reviewed by Elizabeth Price 5/13/2008
Awesome write. I think I live practically on part of the trail of tears and yes, their voices are on the wind still today. I am at comfort with them as their drums beat while they sit around the fire. Liz
Reviewed by Ron (sketchman) Axelson 5/13/2008
Sad, what went on in the early days..
Super write Belle..
x0x0x
Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper 5/13/2008
you speak with un tied tongue, watchout for knife in back, injun lover, great story Belle, love that music, hugz
Reviewed by Randall Barfield 5/13/2008
It's incredible when we look back and know from diaries how the first pale ones of Jamestown, Virginia, and other places (They would become the New Americans.) were aided and fed by the Native Americans. How little they knew they were cutting their own throats. History can be awfully painful as well as pleasurable. Great music and tribute.
Reviewed by Morning Star 5/13/2008
The Native American People summer so much!
Your poem took me through a journey of tears
And emotions!
Brilliant write!
Peace Love and Light...and hugessss..too..Morning Star
Reviewed by Georg Mateos 5/13/2008
The Cherokee Rose talks about her people, one among Hundred Nations, and the scars left on her peaceful tribe by two tongue pale faces.
That rose that sprung from the ground became a very wise squaw.

Wahktageli
(in Sioux a "Gallant Warrior")
Reviewed by Felix Perry 5/13/2008
The sins of our past will forever haunt the children of the future, at least those children born with a conscience.

Fee
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo 5/12/2008
Very passionately written and could feel the scars on your heart for all the injustices of the past....

Be always safe,
Karen
Reviewed by Timothy Flaherty 5/12/2008
great work as always Belle

Tim
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 5/12/2008
Excellent writing sweet lady,have a wonderful evening...Hugsssssss
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 5/12/2008
La Belle,


I know one Cherokee word: Wado. You took us, who know nothing, on the Trail of Tears - you make us see, hear, FEEL - powerfully penned rememberance. Your best -

*tears*

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Rose Rideout 5/12/2008
A great write LaBelle, you make your family proud by keeping them alive and telling how it was. They were very strong people and still are. Thank you for sharing.

Newfie Hugs, Rose
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 5/12/2008
Beautiful write and music, Belle; how we treated our Native People (and still do) is a tragedy; makes me ashamed to be waisitchu (white person)!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :( >tears! <
Reviewed by Chuck Keller 5/12/2008
My mother was 1/4 Cherokee. Great poem, Belle. The "Trail of Tears" is one of our government's most unforgivable acts. As always, I'm a fan.
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 5/12/2008
America should forever live in shame for your "torturous trail of too many tears." You've done your ancestors proud, La Belle. Thank you for
this. Gene.
Reviewed by Bonnie May 5/12/2008
So beautifully written, pulls you in on the very first line. And barren rocks she grows only pulls you tighter. Great thoughts, great poem. Love, Bonnie



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