In the east, she was sung cherubic choruses,
given gold and frankincense and myrrh
when bore down on truth in body of spirit
in flesh; a child, she brought into the desert
that would teach us peace. When we came,
pink with promise rubbed on cheeky earth,
we were meant to stand awash, and awed,
in blood stains of this remembrance of birthing.
Mother to mother, this sweet brush of heaven’s hand
leaves me blushing for my portion of innocence.
Author notes
Prompt: "Blushing is the color of virtue."
-Diogenes
10 lines
jpg provided by contest holder
In a list
A contest entry
- Sunday Quickiness 10/10/30 by poet2angels.
475 points, ended December 9, 2007, 9 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Such a Native sage from sAGE TO PAGE...You are proof that loves from freely from skie to grounded eather mother...sent to call us home for supper...lovely work pen friend...
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ty dear pen friend. What celebration of womanhood is now...and reason to wish peace more now than ever.
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Wonderful and so amazing !
The end left me in a sigh....
Such a beautiful poem created from a simple prompt
Lynda
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ty...well, you know you inspire me, always. ty so much for the gold.
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Excellent
Tremendous visual images you have penned. A very skillful masterpiece. Best of luck in the contest.
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Oh penman, you are such a nice poet friend.
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a fresh look at the christmas story..well told good luck xx
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ty Peter. I am snowbound and unwilling to embrace the chill jsut now and so I write and write and write and write
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