Short Dorothea Poems

Dorothea, my art dream,
as old as me,
has killed herself.
I make my paintings
small, my walls already
covered with my secrets.
it's the big 
brash art that sells,
it's the art of
consistent hope....

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D-elight
O-bliterares
R-ain
O-f
T-ears
H-appily
E-ndorsing
A-crostic

M-use
A-s
C-heerful
K-een
E-xpression
L-ets
L-ife
A-dvance
R-apture

Topic: Birthday of poetess Dorothea Mackellar (July 01) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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There she stood, in a room all spic and span
Her name was Dorothea – the nun of Maryland
Ever so lightly, she picked flowers day and night
Oh! She was indeed the gift of God that did all her tasks
Did she happen to disobey her superiors and anger the ones above?
Obedient, classy and wise – the gift of God did as she was told. 
Rummaging through antiques, she have found the key
Another key that held lies instead of answers, unfortunately....

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