Debbie Guzzi Poet Rhyme

Pluck

The Earths end, sky, sea,
pumice stone, windward, lee;
life grasp, grey, alpine scree,
Christian Church Burren be.

Pillars, lentils, altar stone;
plucked from ancient giants bone;
life, minute, crevice formed foam;
Eire’s core, St. Patrick’s home.

Distilled essence, brightest note;
sweetest scent, verse by rote;
brilliant rainbows, oceanic motes,
Gallic laughter, limericks denote.

The Earths end, sky, sea,
Ireland, pearl in oyster be.
Grit, heart, joy and constancy.
Sorrowful soulful memory.

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Carolyn Devonshire March 1, 2009 at 9:41 AM Deborah, what powerful images you share in this great poem! I love the way you sum it up in your last line. Love, Carolyn

Katrina Margell February 25, 2009 at 1:33 PM This is a lovely piece! Anything which mentions Ireland speaks volumes to me. Cheers!

Robin L. Gass February 24, 2009 at 6:54 AM Beautiful visuals, Debbie. Your magic pen strikes again, my poetic friend! Love Ya

Catherine Reinke February 23, 2009 at 5:52 PM beautiful,fluid. Really nice, I tend not to enjoy poems of this subject, somewhat sappy but my goodness you can hear the ocean and smell the green of Ireland. keep writting

Frank F. Atanacio February 23, 2009 at 2:05 PM I just love your writing :)