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Sheila Roy

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Member Since: Oct, 2007

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Color the Gray
by Sheila Roy

Monday, March 14, 2011
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Sheila Roy
•  Depression - Shakespearean Sonnet (ababcdcdefefgg)
•  Into the Future I Stumble
•  No Moonlight to Wear
•  There is only stone left...
•  as you sleep
           >> View all 26

I pass 3 cemeteries on my way to work, so 6 a day, round trip. One day I saw a woman on the path, fading in the fog. Such a scene begs to be written. She inpired this. I went off the rhyme a bit for the sake of the story-telling.

Color the Gray

 

 

            In that gray place, trimmed with dying bouquets, the sense of yesterday can drown today. Brush my fingertips ‘cross revered phrase, and barely keep the memories at bay. Now I find myself respecting the dead. I can walk among them and not look back. The living still have disguises to shed…oh, do they stumble when that veneer cracks.

 

            Still a bite to the breeze and snow piled high, but I’m a better person by your side. For these few precious moments, I can cry…missing you – mentor of my inner guide. Now that I’m here, I truly have to ask:  Is it true the world can swallow me whole? On a hook in the closet hangs my mask; milady’s knight enough to bare her soul.

 

That woman comes everyday at three. Some drops her umbrella’s not deflected. Drizzle-away the tears so none can see…then pauses at a stone just erected. She touches the tip of her cane to stone and glances skyward as if in prayer. Maybe she traces a fresh epitome…. Maybe her soul is courageously bared…. Yet, I know she feels that sense of something. This cemetery’s where life’s secrets lay. But this somber place is just so haunting...flowered respects merely color the gray.

 

 

 

 

Copyright March 9, 2011 © Sheila Roy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Down in My Bones
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Reviewed by Elizabeth Price 4/15/2011
Hauntingly beautiful. Such a feel for the old woman and her sorrow. Liz
Reviewed by Phyllis Jean Green 4/13/2011
Add yet another BEAUTIFUL to the stars in your poetic crown!

How empathetic you are! How adept at putting readers t h e r e.
We feel the inscription in the cold stone and hear the snow crunch under our feet. The umbrella, the tears. . .sadness and the rush
of memories.

B R A V A !!

xOx Phyllis xOx
Reviewed by Axilea MU 3/31/2011
I really enjoyed reading this piece and discovering the finely chiseled portrait of a woman in the graveyard. And the ending is simply breathtaking!

Axilea
Reviewed by William Bonilla 3/27/2011
Amazing how One glance can produce
a scene worthy of a created piece
and you have done so
Thank you for sharing
most enjoyable read
Love & Peace be with you

William
Reviewed by Andy Turner 3/16/2011
I always look forward to your poems!
Reminds me of a beetles song.

Yet, this may sound weird. But just up road I spend many hours in a church grave yard, enjoying the peace and lamenting of the gentle folk whose bodies now reside in the church, built in 974, but you can only read graves from the 1100's due to weathering. Death's only a beginning anyhow. Like you, I get inspired in that church and yard, with its ancient yew trees of 4000 years or more.

You never disappoint youngen! xx
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart 3/16/2011
What a wonderful and deeply affecting slice of life...and death.
Reviewed by Elizabeth Russo 3/16/2011
Striking images, Sheila! I'm glad you were inspired by that cemetery and woman, so you could share this piece with us. Depth of emotion: a mix of sorrows and realities. A fine write, my friend. ~Hugs, Elizabeth
Reviewed by Annabel Sheila 3/16/2011
This is a beautiful gem, Sheila!!! The imagery is sad and haunting, but you know I've seen the same thing many times. In my youth I feared cemetaries, now I find them peaceful. Loved it!

Anna
Reviewed by Liana Margiva 3/15/2011
EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo 3/14/2011
Sheila, you paint this portrait so vividly and with such delicate care...

Be always safe,
Karen
Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather 3/14/2011
the last line is perfect, flowered respects merely color the gray. excellent, Morgan
Reviewed by John Flanagan 3/14/2011
Such a strong, vibrant sense of presence - yours,
the place, the figure of the woman - creates the
absolutely evocative atmosphere and spiritual dimension
intended. i'm saving this, Sheila.
In admiration,

John
Reviewed by Amor Sabor 3/14/2011
Sheila, your work always carries the neon class of the field with your beautiful rhyme and meter. I am never disappointed.
Amor
Reviewed by Kate Burnside 3/14/2011
"flowered respects merely color the gray" - beautiful finale to poignant and flowing narrative, Sheila. You take us there and I find that simple image of the woman delicately touching the tip of her cane to stone and glancing skyward deeply moving. A telling detail. As always, fine and sensitive work. xx
Reviewed by Jason Wise 3/14/2011
Wonderfull imagery.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 3/14/2011
Ah, this is soul-stirring, Sheila. Your words form verses that flow into me as I read and leave their impressions like an artist's paintbrush upon canvas. Thank you for sharing this gift. Love, hugs, and best wishes to you,

Regis
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 3/14/2011
Expertly done, never mind the rhyming scheme, Sheila. I live about a block from and "old" cemetery. There are graves there from the eighteen hundreds.

You tender poetry concerning the woman and the secrets within this hallowed place was excellent.
Reviewed by George Carroll 3/14/2011
I have seen some of the most elaborate head stones that people apparently with plenty of money could afford but the grief and mourning is just as simple and profound as you have depicted.

George
Reviewed by Felix Perry 3/14/2011
I do love cemetaries especially old ones, they have such an unearthly charm and remind me that yes I am mortal and my day will come soon as well. You captured the essence of your subject truly well shiela...great piece of prose.
fee
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 3/14/2011
Lovely writing sweet lady as always...stay safe and well..Hugsss
Reviewed by Christine Tsen 3/14/2011
Glorious poetry Sheila! Wow!!!
You confront mortality in an intimate way, and with tears and colors reach our hearts where the feelings come alive to contemplate.
Blessings,
Christine



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