If Only Inklings
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I write poetry with a bleeding pen,
sharing my grief, sorrow, tears and my love;
as past inklings come again and again.
Mom left with the dignity of a dove,
always so kind with a voice like a balm;
if only I had grace like mom above.
When dad spoke he was always very calm,
he was serene, soothing and wanted peace;
if only I remembered his fav' psalms.
Grandma died old and death gave her release,
she left me her heavenly shining light;
if only I could hold each whispered piece.
With God and Jesus to help I am strong,
and my future is full of Zen and hope;
if only I could have changed all the wrong.
If only I knew just how I will cope-
I write poetry with a bleeding pen;
and my future is full of Zen and hope,
as past inklings come again and again.
___________________
April 17, 2023
Poetry/Terzanelle/If Only Inklings
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1541-095-17
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Inklings
sponsor, Regina McIntosh, Judged 05/28/2023
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2023
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