Poems to Mom's Art Week 3

Go to Week 2 of Mom's Art & Betina's Poems.                A Daily Meditation

 


1980_Pencil_Drawing11 by Carol Hershey

7/2/08_1980_Pencil_Drawing11 by Betina Hershey

Oh, Mamma, the wheat and the weaving
and the eggs -
I’ve gathered them up in a bundle to bring
to market.
The sun is hot today, my veil long.
Two people passing by remarked that
my hand is very delicate,
my designs evoke the gods.
When I reach the bustle at the end of this
long, dusty road
my shoes will be worn, my veil tattered.
Will those clamoring about me
know the hours I spent, the needle, the loom, the watching? 
Will I tell them I borrowed these designs from messengers in the wind?
Someone is smiling.

 

 

1976_Ink_Drawing1 by Carol Hershey

7/29/08_1976_Ink_Drawing1_ Poem by Betina Hershey

He has a green thumb.
Thank goodness, for the grain will
Feed us, the flowers cheer us
Though the sun may burn us
And the volcano may shower ash
Upon our peeling noses.
I had a clear vision of truth
And goodness, and love,
All lime and yellow and splendid,
But lost it.
He is a little maroon, a little orange,
But still, that green thumb!
That green thumb may save the
Village.



1977_Pencil_Drawing9 by Carol Hershey

7/31/08_1977_Pencil_Drawing9_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Someday we will have a little plot of land
With flowers, grass, a tree.
Maybe we will be lucky enough
To have money flow through our fingers
Like the breeze, bringing us
Peace.
We will definitely have sun, and dew,
Feathery moments of pleasure,
And a sidewalk.
Someday we will be able to put roses
Onto our table, in little glass cups,
Our very own roses floating
So beautifully on the water from our sink,
A sink that will quench thirst
When love has already done its work
And there are little hands reaching
For such a big cup.

 

  1985+98_ColorPencil1 by Carol Hershey

8/1/08_ 1985+98_ColorPencil1_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

The sun beats down
While the eternal eye
Hides behind a veil,
Soaking in the day
Through the protection
Of an earthen wall.

I peek out, quivering
While Worry
Sneaks it’s tentacles into my
Very own eternal eye.

Sometimes you see me with Worry
And then you pull me aside saying,
“Careful!  It’s a spy!”
But I consider Worry
A persistent adviser.


 

 

Go to A Closer Look of the art.

Week 1 of Mom's Art & Betina's Poems.

Week 2 of Mom's Art & Betina's Poems.