Utmost
...dedicated to all my Soup brothers and sisters
A lady at a window writing,
measuring her words with strict precision.
She takes a sip of tea
as if to fuel her imagination.
Memories go drifting by - a brother
playing basketball, the softness
of a springtime rain, the anger
of an autumn sky, a flash,
and thunder rumbling.
Smells and sounds, grist
to her mill. Nothing spoils
her view until her best attempt is done.
Still dissatisfied she tweaks
and fiddles, substitutes a weak word
for a stronger one. At last content
she sets aside her pen.
Yes, they will know her now,
know the beauty of her mind,
and know that she will always do her utmost.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment