Picture Frames
poem by:
Janet Vick
Written
on Nov 15, 2017
Picture Frames We picture frames from life while growing old. Some cherished times of love, though pictures’ old the mem’ries warm the heart as times grow cold. That smiling one, a toddling little flame of energy, rambunctious, full of flame now smothered in the grave that bears her name. My Dad, that one...a farmer, loved the land. He taught me to give thanks and bless the land, what matters most is love... I understand. And that is of a woman from before the dance when shattered mind destroyed before. She walks a shelled-out mother, wife no more. A treasured past of pictures, happy days to warm the life of present, stumbling maze. Blues Sonnet
Tags: Sad, Love, Pain,
Add Comment
Frank Hornby . commented on Nov 16, 2017 at 1:48pm
Old photos are treasures.....images sadly fade in your mind.....lovely poem Janet...
Janet Vick
commented on Nov 17, 2017 at 10:49am
Thanks for commenting Frank. Janet
Christopher Russon
commented on Nov 17, 2017 at 5:36pm
Such a lovely poem Janet I was looking through a photograph album just the other night.
Black and white photos of of people from the past.
Janet Vick
commented on Nov 17, 2017 at 10:26pm
Thanks for reading and commenting Christopher. I can't help but get a little teary eyed when I look at the photos of the ones I will always miss... Janet
Chris Cleverly
commented on Jan 08, 2018 at 10:35pm
nice poem, to me the first line would flow better had it read - We frame pictures from life while growing old - good work overall with a great melancholic bliss.
Talal Uddin
commented on May 05, 2021 at 3:35pm
Indeed a well furnished poem, dude. Old is gold.
