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Ribbons of Life
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By Gynith Roberts
Other Poems by Gynith Roberts


 

Ribbons of Life

 

Somedays on Sunday when the world is as quiet as the shadows that follow us on a sunny summer day, and a breeze ruffles leaves of the old maple tree, the ribbons in my mind start to unfurl.

The golden voice of Mamma echoes from the kitchen or garden, and I'm sure I feel the touch of her work-worn hands on my shoulder. I turn to catch a glimpse, but she is not there.

The muffled bark of a dog from across a tree-lined street and the muted tone of a radio playing softly next door flutter on air.

Silhouettes of girls in green organdy, precious pennies clutched in hands for Sunday School, dance down the cracked and broken sidewalk, oblivious to anything but the joy of the moment.

The many colored ribbons of life come together in the laughter and love of family from the front porch. They twine themselves into my heart until, once again, I set them free = Somedays on Sunday.



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Submitted: Thursday, June 14, 2001

Last Updated: Thursday, December 11, 2008

About the Poet
I still have 4 grandsons and love to write. Although it hasn't been easy (nothing worth while ever is), on June 1 Floyd and I will celebrate our 57th wedding anniversary.


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