Here's one from a way back - I don't profess to be a poet so be kind!
Escape
I meant to do my work by three,
But a passerine was singing in the apple tree
And one by one
As if by queue
More melodies then drifted through
My open window and to my ears.
And I thought, how I have wasted years
Just sitting in my sterile room
Silent, as in my mother's womb,
While out there majestic symphonies flow.
So, what could I do, but laugh and go.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
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JC xoxoxoxo