I bet some of you are pretty surprised to see me here, on my self proclaimed posting day, with a new post. I've been so inconsistent I know people have lost faith in my ability to maintain a steady schedule. I know I did. But, here I am!
First, I want to remind everyone of my contest. It's still going on. You have until NOVEMBER 16TH to leave a comment with your suggestion my new blog name. The prize is a copy of my book, THE PEASANT QUEEN--which went to press yesterday. Woohoo!!
Remember to please keep your suggestions clean. I've had a few already--one's a little too long (but sweet, Amie--thank you!), but I think we're going in the right direction. I want to make this a real contest, so don't be shy. Suggest away!
And now, for another poem.
A child alone, a child lost.
In this world tempest tossed.
The tears flowed free, just like a brook
as down the mountain paths it took.
Her smiles were fewer, as tears took hold.
She never really was too bold.
Once in the darkness life had wrought
she saw more pain the more she fought.
And so her struggles began to wane;
she thought them all to be in vain.
She sobbed alone, upon a stone.
If only the poor child had known.
That all the times that she had cried.
It was the Lord who wiped her eyes.
January 22, 1995
You know, I did originally leave this one untitled, but right now, I'm thinking it should be Tempest. What do you think?