Nette Onclaud Poet Light Verse

Handmade Gift

Swarmed by choral tunes of early birds,
Her hands mold curves into shape, touched by love
While fluid eyes hum as bands entwine.
Till weeks alight requesting for night’s quiet rest,
Yet mornings lift palms on the same shade
Pinning tiny beads embossed like rows of wreaths
Crocheted strips finally twirl in dainty pattern
The perfect mingling of straws looped in elegance;
Finally, the night before a most special ceremony
When aisles of the church prepare my young walk,
Grandma smiles tearily and hands me...	

My first woven flower-girl basket.

 ''''              '''''''''''''


* I was told that Grandma lost her interest
in weaving when she cut her palms. After 5 years,
she began crafting when she found out I was the only
flower-girl to his son's wedding ( my uncle).
Contest: Kim Morrison's True Story
by nette onclaud

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

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.

Please Login to post a comment

Carrie Richards June 22, 2013 at 5:39 PM What an endearing story of your grandmother. A precious memory for you to store away forever. :)

John Posey June 22, 2013 at 5:21 PM Yes, Grandmas are really special. Their love, not being obligatory, seems somehow more genuine.... congrats on your win..... Jake

Joyce Johnson June 22, 2013 at 11:17 AM What a lovely story as beautifully woven as your grandma's baskets. Congratulations. Love, Joyce

Kim Morrison June 22, 2013 at 7:36 AM Beautiful piece Nette. Congrats thanks for submitting Kim

Seren Roberts June 21, 2013 at 11:49 PM Congratulations Nette ... Sern

Bl Devnath June 15, 2013 at 9:25 AM Beautiful bridal ceremony pictured with colorful words where Grandma's love is shown nicely. Thanks....,loved always, bl

Harry Horsman June 11, 2013 at 10:05 AM I wonder if this is a cultural tradition, your poetry certainly is...

Cyndi Macmillan June 10, 2013 at 10:14 PM How lovely in every sense... after my father died I looked at things, I mean material things, differently. Some may be treasures, but they are all only a things, still, regardless of the connection that item may provide to the past. I treasure memories most, those snatches that we keep close, moments such as these. I have thought that I would rather pass away young than ever lose my memories... that terrifies me... I'm sure you understand. Will check for soupie in a.m. but can't reply till LATE (helping at school!) xox

Mustapha Mohammed June 10, 2013 at 5:52 PM This write greets my soul with a kiss.Exceptional!

Russell Sivey June 10, 2013 at 3:36 PM Awww, this is such a sweet write my friend! This is quite the sentimental poem here, one of mastery and love! You have woven a glorious piece just like grandma has interwoven her basket! I truly enjoyed reading this delectable and charming poem this afternoon! What a lovely piece, Great Work!!

Charmaine Chircop June 10, 2013 at 2:51 PM I always appreciate handmafe gifts.Hsndmafe gifts are always made with much dedication and love-Lovely poem.

Sara Kendrick June 10, 2013 at 12:28 PM Ahh!! Beautiful topic about which you have written this one..Enjoyed reading it today..Thanks for the visit to my work..I appreciate you reading and taking time to comment on my work..Sara

Anne-Lise Andresen June 10, 2013 at 10:57 AM - It's always nice to get a beautiful handmade gift, from both the children and adults. - A lot of work and a lot of love. - Beautifully written, Nette. - oxox / / Anne-Lise :)

Poet Tacito June 10, 2013 at 9:56 AM PHENOMENAL!!!! My goodness! I have no other words. Oh, since you like to know these things, I posted not 1, but 2 new things. So, that means you can't request a new one from me for, at least, 12 hrs. ;)