Grammy - Myrtle Applegate-Etgen
poem written for “Write a Beautiful Verse Poem” poetry contest, Constance La France, sponsor, January 2, 2026
“A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.” (John Keats) ************ Grammy’s hands were porcelain monuments, each finger a taper of borrowed moonlight. She posed them on plush velvet, her wrists arched, for cameras that loved their silent eloquence~ a beautiful ballet of knuckles and patience, selling rings, lotions, and the illusion of grace. Decades of lemon baths, lotion, and almond oil, nails cut and buffed to crescent moons, never chipped. Her knuckles, delicate hinges, refused the swell of arthritis—time’s gift of a life well spent. Now her hands rest, folded like origami, still flawless, still waiting for the lens to flicker.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
