I don’t consider myself a poet, but I have journals full of free verse from my high school creative writing classes. I found it to be a relaxing pastime and an effective vehicle for expressing the jumbled-up emotions of my teen years.
Every once in a while I am inspired to write poetry, as was the case following a visit with a dear friend who is more than 100 years old.
She is a remarkable woman with a sharp mind, quick wit and wealth of wisdom earned through tough times and an insatiable appetite for reading and learning. A woman of faith and a writer herself, she has touched many a soul with her empowering presence, listening ear, and ability to cut to the heart of a matter with grace and love.
I wrote For January as an expression of my gratitude for the privilege of knowing this very special woman.
For January
Fine white hair
precious as silk
touches purple shoulders,
woven from Wisdom,
tested on
a life well-lived
in love.
Skin the color of light
drapes over her small frame
chiseled by Love,
edges smoothed
by Trouble’s waves
crashing against
her soul.
Raised by a troubled mother
father on the fly
boarding schools
good and bad.
A young woman’s dreams for
the writer’s life
put on hold for unexpected love.
I listen to her heart
learn about her life
through words strung together
on golden thread.
Brilliant beads
of truth and sensibility
glistening on paper.
A friendship
built across tables
at breakfast,
nurtured through letters
of care and concern.
Devoted sisters,
loving friends.
We have our pet names for each other
She is Millie, Mamsita,
Mammy, Mumsy, Mom, and
my dear friend, January.
I am her Rosebud, Dear Child, Cherub
Little Sprout, Darling Girl, and
one and only, Trinket.
It is the January of her 98th year.
The air is frozen
and the chill of impending loss
draws me to her.
She reaches out to hold me,
melts me with her spells
of love and grace.
So many lives changed
righted, redirected
through this one woman.
A priceless gift
to so many,
to me.
Love alive forever.
©JoAnn Amicangelo
7 Comments
Beautiful. You are a poet.
Thanks, my poet friend.
this touches my soul. Your love is so big. I can really feel how you love this woman. I’m blessed to have you as my sister. Love you, linda
Love you, too, sis.
What a beautiful piece!!! Though, I initially was tricked… thought you were referring to the month of January. I love the whole poem, but the lines that really touched me and quickly became my favorite lines are:
woven from Wisdom,
tested on
a life well-lived
in love.
Skin the color of light
drapes over her small frame
chiseled by Love,
edges smoothed
by Trouble’s waves
crashing against
her soul.
Just beautiful!!
Thank you for sharing.
(P.S. You are a poet in your own right. You should share more.)
Thanks, Andi, for the encouragement.
High School did bring out those things that were new and fresh, and later in life things become kindled and renewed. Dave