I Love to Rhyme by Bobby Short – Read More…
I enjoy reading poetry but I enjoy writing my own poems even better. When I was in elementary school we had poetry lessons in English class. I remember finding it difficult to write just one poem. Then suddenly one day poetry was just a part of me.
Thinking back it was triggered by my maternal grandmother, Marion (Preston) Klemann. Her suffering during her illness caused her to routinely wake during the middle of the night. She used this time to write poems. I think writing the poems gave her some comfort. This was also a lasting way for her to express herself. I have saved her poems and read them from time to time. Her death had quite an effect on me. For the first 10 years after she died I couldn’t even think about her without crying. Now it has been over 34 years and I still miss her very much and get very sad thinking about her. Strangely, just last night (2010.03.02) I had I dream that I visited her at the house she lived in when I was a little girl.
After she died I went through a phase when everything that came out of my mouth seemed to rhyme. I did book reports in the form of poems. Memorizing long Shakespearean sonnets for English was no problem at all. I even remembered them for years afterwards. I seemed to drive my sister Terrah crazy with my ‘corny’ rhymes. Things are under control now lol. But I still have a few rhyming spells. Usually during times of extreme stress or grief for some reason.
I wrote a poem in July 2001 when I started creating my personal website. I needed to name my site and I wanted to have a poem to introduce it. I named the site “Deanna’s Tapestry” and wrote “A Family Tapestry” poem. My poetry had come a long way. After all that time my little sister Terrah was finally impressed with one of my poems.
A Family Tapestry
Our family is like a fine tapestry
its pattern etched deeply in our memory.
Growing larger through the years
when one is wed or born.
At times even stained with tears
from things that us forlorn.
Each member adds their own rich shade
of true color that time won’t fade.
Together we are woven
with a thread that is golden.
— Deanna J. (Miller) Wayne