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The Sowing

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Upon the wind sheltered hillside,
the sharp tang of metal and the sting of salt air lay
over a field of blood-red poppies, no Flanders Field.

At years fall, fields of rape roll like waves,
in the harshness of winter-sleet, stray boulders bow,
like the backs of mothers, and daughters sowing.
Their nails torn, ragged, and bleeding.
They bleed by the moon, and son, upon the fields.
No white crosses mark their passing.

For hundreds of years, and crops of rape, barley and wheat,
small hands, soft hands, and soft thighs bleed.
They bleed daughters, and sons.
They birth the fields by consent or rape and in the fields 
unadorned by silver stars or purple hearts, they writhe.

Today, as May's sun wakes the blood blasted pasture,
each precious drop blooms, a heroines soul
acknowledgement, the poppies yield.

*Just 1 of the verses in my new book The Hurricane by Prolific Press
Signed copies are available though me.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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Date: 5/10/2017 5:42:00 PM
Debbie I want to purchase a signed copy of your book. Could you soupmail me on how I can proceed. Lots Of Love Always, armand.
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Date: 10/3/2016 7:02:00 AM
Confusing because of "Rapeseed"; I.e.; Used to make Canola oil.
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Date: 10/27/2015 6:35:00 AM
I was at Normandy last December. How all of those ships fit in that small harbor is beyond me. The hearts and stars are true rewards of bravery. I can even see Jesus's cross and nails. It was I who was sewing and sowing and only one knowing what was growing or in the wind ad been blowing or wondering about what they were crowing. Just back from cruise. Jim Horn
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Debbie Guzzi
Date: 10/27/2015 8:40:00 AM
I am not taking anything away from the brave who died in war. There has been and is a war between the sexes. What I am saying is that all the brave women who have birthed men, raised children, been raped, beaten and died- basically just because they were weaker than the men- get NO Flanders field-not even an acknowledgement that it is still happening.
Date: 10/27/2015 5:47:00 AM
I walked the Battlefields of Flanders last year, Debbie, and can relate to this piece on different levels. Beautifully written. Viv x
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Date: 10/26/2015 6:52:00 PM
Interesting work..Not sure exactly what it is about but I feel that it is about a deep subject like abuse of some sort..Thanks for stopping by..I appreciate the time spent there..I am to have eye surgery tomorrow..I will have to go back to the surgeon on Wednesday..I know that I will be away from my computer two days and possibly longer just according to my recovery..Sara
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Debbie Guzzi
Date: 10/26/2015 6:58:00 PM
anything like that is scary - I'm sending good thoughts your way! Yes, the poem is about woman who have died through rape or abuse.
Date: 10/25/2015 11:58:00 PM
Hi DG, This is tremendously one of your best. The ending rides with imagery that brightens the acknowledgment of the heroes who bloom with honor onto the soil, marking the-ages with some kind of bloom. the image is haunting, yet it holds a powerful meassage. Hope you and your book sell are filled with Light & Love <---- :) :) :) LINDA
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Date: 10/25/2015 2:43:00 AM
Debbie, oh so beautifully penned, it must be a wonderful book, 7 and thanks for visiting my poetry ~~
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Date: 10/24/2015 1:28:00 AM
Exceptional write Debbie. I will have to check out your book. Congratulations on your Published book The Hurricane.
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Date: 10/24/2015 12:26:00 AM
I'm reading your book and. I love it. Everyone here should have a copy. It is always a pleasure to read you ma.
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Date: 10/23/2015 11:32:00 PM
I remember this, Deb. Right there at the top 100 of All Time. If I haven't fav'd it yet. I'll go back to make sure it is. hugs
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