Sunday Whirl (Wordle #135) presents a list of words
that we must incorporate in a writing piece.
The words this week are:
race, silky, lanky, whiskey, puddle, pain, mouth
isolate, murky, breath, marsh, razor, befuddled
The Professional Woman.
The Youth
Full of promise
She stands proud;
Tall, lanky, silky haired,
A bloom is seen upon her:
The first warm peach of summer.
The Woman
Life can turn on a razor’s edge,
Decisions taken lightly,
Lead to murky and dark places.
The urgent breath from the mouths
Of strange men
Warms her neck
And pays her bills.
The Old Woman
Her attractions have faded
And she lives in a marsh,
A swamp of befuddled pain
A swamp of befuddled pain
And whiskey driven relief.
Unloved and unwanted
She sits and watches the rain.
The Grave
Life, we are told, is a race
Some win, some struggle
And many lose.
Some lose worse than others.
And take up small plots
In isolated corners,
Unmarked and unlamented.
Rain pock marks the puddles,
But it too is uncaring.
.
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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013
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From youth to death, you have written a powerful (albeit sad) saga. I really like this poem!
ReplyDeleteWhirling with Donald Hall
Marvelous job with the words. You've written a haunting, powerful poem.
ReplyDeleteA work of fiction, of course. No research was conducted in writing this work.
ReplyDeleteSad saga of a life bereft of true love and friendship. What goes around comes around - however, I hope that even such people have a ray of sunshine to enjoy from time to time. Haunting write.
ReplyDeleteA race to a watery grave..or treading water until a peaceful end..oh, but that's not cheery..small gains..baby steps..wine..peach blossom..anything to hide what could be truth..
ReplyDeleteonly some bright promising moments of youth for her .... sad...
ReplyDeleteA sad journey of this woman's life. When you're young you don't realize how so much promise can be lost to bad choices - until it's too late.
ReplyDeleteThe progression.....can we sometimes rewrite the order and focus on youthful approach?....just skip the last stage :) Nice poem.
ReplyDeleteInteresting work - especially liked: 'Rain pock marks the puddles...' With Best Wishes Scott ww.scotthastie.com
ReplyDeletewhat a journey through time - well done JCN
ReplyDeleteVery tragic. It's so sad to be unwanted.
ReplyDeletephases of life... and time. such a race. can relate to this one. something to ponder on.
ReplyDeleteOh those closing lines really sum up the poem - wonderfully!
ReplyDeleteAnd the light still glows red....
ReplyDeletePowerful.
ReplyDeletea sad tale; and well done; have a nice Sunday
ReplyDeletemuch love...
...and please add your link to my blog hop; have a nice Sunday
ReplyDeletemuch love...
Sad. Loveless. great imagery. I like the warm breath on her neck which pays the bills...
ReplyDeleteReally like the rain pock marking the puddles. I think we all shudder a bit at the thought of our entire life captured so clearly and briefly,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Life does have some challenging twists and turns. She could have, perhaps, become a gentleman's lady. Instead, tragedy, solitary life, forgotten. Sic transit gloria mundi.
ReplyDelete"Rain pock marks the puddles" is exquisite.
ReplyDeleteI love the tale and the imagery. Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteThere probably were times in her life that she thought she had made the right decisions and possibly later had opportunities to change. This probably applies to many of us not just her who we may judge not realizing that one day we may be judged as well. This is a profoundly sad piece you have written.
ReplyDeletevery interesting play on the professional woman. I was expecting something else. You surprised me.
ReplyDeleteLoved this!
ReplyDeletebridging the past with the future