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Jacqueline Fitch Poem
Frayed and puckered in a heap
Skivvies on top, worn socks beneath
Lace collar curled up in disgust
Offensive smells to upper crust
Deep baskets poured out jumbled loads
Soap bubbles flip flopped to and fro
Pearl buttons twirled as I declared
“Those agitatin’ underwear!”
Riled ruffles twisted in a bind
As boxers wiggled up behind
Inclined to fret and whirl away
When this old tub began to sway
Just fixin’ to soak in some suds
Till wringers caught the cycles buzz
This necks been drawn too many times
By garments surely less refined
Soon clothespins gathered at my tag
To pinch my frills despite those rags
Hung out to dry, high strung until
Tucked in a bag marked good will
Copyright © Jacqueline Fitch | Year Posted 2005
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Jacqueline Fitch Poem
Welcome to the Lodge of Hope
A fine staff awaits your meeting
Courage and faith are introduced
As virtue upholds the greeting
Diagnosis for extended stay
Prep with knowledge of chemical war
Reflecting on acquaintance familiar
My dear mom lodged here months before
Festive parties invite kind reception
Embrace found in song’s revelry
Catching streamers of social confetti
Entertainment eludes life’s injury
Friendship courts a thanksgiving spirit
Radiating beams that fuse plans for a cure
Wreaths of holly adorn three shiny heads
As best wishes tap dance through the door
Restoration served with affection
When a New Year kneels to the floor
Covered with timeless impressions
Left to foster the guests before
Aid through local perspective
Proves beneficial still
As traumatic events integrate
Preserving courage and goodwill
Carry homeward inspiration
Gently wrap and lace with rope
A memento of reflections
Presented in the Lodge of Hope
Copyright © Jacqueline Fitch | Year Posted 2005
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Jacqueline Fitch Poem
Directions to envision a lost trail of agony
Reveals passage to a black bag tautly held for many years
While overhauling contents of a violent imagery
I thrust forward to the pathway of rudimentary repair
To weaken the hold and ease the grips of anguish and despair
Thoughts are pulling me,pushing me toward perception more each day
Torn apart by recognition as it was consciously turned away
Broken of hand it plummets, while insulting the earth below
Thousands of tears race from the bag as I nurture my scorned ego
A gush of emotion slashes the soil in a torrent, bitter rain
While viciously spouting a pool of frustration
Then is snatched up by the dirt again
In contempt of the ailing turmoil that stifled many a goal
The soil sucks it down, further down, then swallows it in whole
The satchel of stressful burden once over-stuffed by me
Descends to fill on devil’s rations where it packs up easily
Fate of torments asunder, I had to let go
To cradle awareness and potentially grow
Advanced from suppression, unwilling to stumble
Into the black clutch of madness where healthy minds crumble
Copyright © Jacqueline Fitch | Year Posted 2005
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