I come
from God-fearing people.
From streets picket thick
with steeples.from God-fearing people.
From streets picket thick
Where prayers fill the blue sky
like eagles,
and the preacher
lives next door.
I got Southern Baptist in my bones.
Jesus loves me, this I know.
My Grannie -
when she prays God answers "yes, ma'am!"
So, how'd I turn out like I am?
Submitted to Poetry Pantry
Don't forget; I'm hosting Flash Fiction 55 tomorrow. Doors open at 8 eastern, just like G-Man taught me.
13 comments:
I LOVE this!!!!!! I so relate!
I love the streets picket thick with steeples! And the yes ma'am!
What's wrong with the way you turned out? I think you're glorious.
So great! Indeed, how do we all turn out the way we have. I guess the Universe is filled with U-turns.
Steve K.
This is a wonderfully evocative poem. It seems we have similar roots! I think you turned out the way you were meant to! Happy Easter from an ex-fundamentalist.
Love the reverence shown by God.
I almost wish there was one.
I don't come from that place...but i have visited...once thought I might live there but thought better of it.
a poem of strong faith
I wonder that, too ~
How lucky! All of it, every possibility, steeple, yes ma'am, backbone, and outcome.
I think you turned out perfectly, nobody can predict what will strike you or shape you of hurt you or love you, so here you are, and I think I kinda like you!!!!
Glad you were born :-)
ZQ
Amen Sistah...!!!
I'll be out of town for a couple of days MZ, but I DID leave a link to the Promt.
You've learned quite well Grasshopper...I'm very proud!!
The picket fence of steeples is just great as are so many images. Thank you.
Will try to do a 55 tomorrow. k.
Post a Comment