MAGGIE LOGAN
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~Poetry~

                      Sometimes I Write
                            ~personal prose~ 


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Sometimes I Write - My Poetry    by Valerie Peters
Theme: Poetry
7"x10" - Hardcover w/Matte Laminate - Color - Trade Book 
Published on: Sep-30-2019

These are dedicated to my friends and family..Poems Along the Path.  I dedicated the book to my Grammy who read poetry to
me on the glider, and to my Mother who listened to everything
I write

Along the path we wander
Holding words of thought
Gather up the Living
Write it from your heart.
Remember them or forget them
Matters not you see
Life is a thoughtful pathway
​Living poetry.

The Glider
 
 Up and up the winding road 
 Logan’-s Ferry Hill 
 Close your eyes and pretend 
 I can take you there, even still. 
 
 
   Imagine men of old
 Determined and full of will 
 Mining coal and farming 
 On my Grammy’s hill. 
 
   Up and up the wilder wild 
 Houses nestled deep
 Overgrown with bough and bush, 
 Long ago voices creep  
 
 Chick-a-dees and woodpeckers
 Flit from limb of tree
 Crickets buzz,
 and foghorns sound 
 Below is the Allegheny. 
 
   The scent of coal stoves hover,
 Calling me closer still 
 Flagstones trace a familiar path 
 The air is moist with chill. 
  
 Open up the slamming door 
 Her wooden porch invites
  Screened to keep intruders out 
 Memories of delight. 
 
 
   Smell the earth around us
 Loving simple room.
 Moss and grasses wild 
 Carefully chosen blooms. 
 
 
   Frosted cinnamon toast and butter
 Rich cocoa in a mug
 A library of curious books 
 Give my soul a tug. 
 
   Then it is alone time 
 Once upon a summer night 
 Just Grammy and I on her glider
 Together under starry light  
 
    The coolness doesn’t dissuade us
 Nor lack of light to see
 We cozy up with blankets and books
      Just my Grammy and me
 
She tells me tales of make-believe
Recites her childhood rhymes 
 Verses from the Bible flow 
 Since those are deep inside.
 
   From the mountains come her strength
 I’m sure~ and in the morning things look joyful 
She lives the words the Lord has said 
 And shares them firm and careful.
 
   We read short tales from Chatterbox, 
 And when that’s to an end 
 She saves more time for poetry
And all her old-time friends.   
 
 Dickenson, and Byron, 
  Frost, and Oscar Wilde
 The glider rocks with rhythm 
 As she enlightens her child. 
 
    
 Some say that it is a sad thing
 When rituals cease to be
 But for me it’s still alive 
Grammy’s glider when she reads to me.        
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      " Sometimes I Write"
​Sometimes it is the music
The drumbeat of ancient ones
The allure of mystic fiddles
The dance of distant fun.
 
Sometimes it is the artwork
The heroines and such
Igniting creative fervor
To make me think too much
 
Sometimes it is the poetry
That brings me to this end
Words that sing like magic
Written by a friend.
 
Sometimes I need the purpose
The reason and know-how
Sometimes the freedom is just there
Perhaps that time is now.
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  • Home
  • Books
    • Waves of Darkness
    • Waves of Light
    • Waves of Love
    • Irish Myths and Legends
    • Wanderlust
    • Sometimes I Write
    • Through Lacey Curtains
    • Could Be The Poetry
  • Bookstore
  • News & Events
  • Contact
  • Blog
  • Musings