Saturday morning poetry

The year after my divorce (almost three years ago now) I was "coaxed" into joining a poetry writing group.  I was very unsure and insecure but through kind words and patient poets I began to explore another side of myself.  We spent every saturday morning writing poetry.  To give you a little background on the group, many of the women were "learned poets", women who had been trained in college and had taken many writing courses and had written poetry for many years. This fact was very daunting for me, but courageously I attended and began to see that I loved writing poetry.  Poetry helped me to survive the first year of being single.  I had been married for many years and didn't even know how to not be married.  How to think of myself without having to consider if someone else would be happy with what I wanted.  I think it was the first time in my entire 40 years on this earth that I was not responsible for another human being (husband, children, parents, etc...) and I was really scared.  Poetry, and the group experience of writing and sharing, helped me work through many fears, and explore dreams and desires that I didn't even know existed...  The group ended about a year ago, with two of our members moving out of state, it left only two of here in Groton and we had busy lives and couldn't find the time to get together regularly...

So, when Karen told me that Suzanne was back in town this weekend, I was jumping for joy. The three of us were going to write poetry again!  What a joy.  I love these women and they "get me"... I never have to worry that I will shock or surprise them with the words that form my poems.  They are creative, loving and amazing and I am happy happy happy!!!  

Here are two of the poems that came through me this morning:

Innocent path lined with purples, reds and greens

Solitude unlike isolation escapes the cracking mirror.

Given to her as a child, laziness prevents the movement forward

tricking some into adulthood.

The tape, fast forward, illuminates the unknown

Protected from the fascade of "have's"

She wanders away propelled by the cool breeze

coaxing her to the edge, the doorway to adventure.

#2:  

In the smoke filled room, she moves easily through the crowd.

Her truth, like the notes, escape 

as she moistens her ruby red lips revealing the story.   

The depth expressed in the clear quartz eyes.