pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Difficulty

AMERICAN ENGLISH

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American English is clearly a rebel,
against which I must rebel!
And while we’re on the subject,
why do we subject ourselves
to such madness as homographs?
Just for laughs?
And who invented them?
(Eye roll) What a gem!

Well, I think not.
And through all this thorough thought,
I’m fraught with not knowing
Who thought up homophones.
Dim watt!

And silent letters, and
those that change the sounds of others, too.
I have no clue. Do you?
Shrew!

And rules? Hardly more than flukes!
Like the whole “i before e” thing,
albeit cutely rhyming,
is the height of forfeiting
the rule books.
Kooks!

Now let’s talk contranyms.
For instance, weather means to withstand,
but also to wear away?
Well may I just say
only a contrary soul would assign
opposing meanings to the same word.
Turd.

I could go on, but you would just yawn,
and the point would be forgone.
So for now, just know
English brings me woe.
Whoa …
It’s plain to see why. *sigh*

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

MOM

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Patricia A. Fagnano:  March 16, 1931 – February 9, 2018

 

You walk into a room full of people and you ask

who has the best mother

and you can’t see faces in the crowd

for all the raised hands

but mine isn’t raised

 

it is grasping for Mom’s.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

Last Sunday

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

The sermon was on forgiveness.  My mind was as blank as the 3 x 5 card, on which we were encouraged to write the name of someone we need to forgive.  Surely there is someone in my life in need of my forgiveness.  I can think of no one.  Not one.  I contemplated and prayed in intervals, while listening to the sermon.

“Marie, I don’t need your forgiveness.”

Though inaudible, the sudden voice was clear, adamant, and authoritative … and just as full of love and understanding as anything I could imagine.  At first, I argued.

“Of COURSE there is nothing to forgive! You are my GOD!”

How tender a God
who loves me as I hold Him
accountable.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

A WEEK IN HAIKU

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Photo by Keith R. Good

 

“… for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning.”  ~ Lamentations 3

 

Dawn’s light emerges,
Hastening a new week’s cares.
Her knees, eroding.

Vivid moss roses
Flamboyant ruby hummers
Adore(n) her prayer walk

A murky morning.
Gloom seems to silence nature.
A still, small Voice calls.

The sun failed to rise,
She believes.  And so she seeks
Son’s radiant grace.

Unsettling dream
Halted by sound of music
Caroled in her heart

Her heart feels absent;
Her spirit, arid and parched.
A gentle rain falls.

As dusk’s light withdraws,
She reaches out for His hand,
And there, finds her heart.

 

© Marie Elena Good