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

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
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.