Poetry
Prismed Prisons. A poem about a wife visiting her husband in prison.
PRISMED PRISONS
She walks down cold, silent paths
Down corridors of steel
Through shackled prison walls
Houses husband to reveal.
Steps soft pace drear distance
Between spouse and spouse
Visiting today from separate lives
Each in a divided house.
His gnarled fingers worn by tests of time
Clasped in tough confusion
Cradles jaws tensed, stern
Views hard bred in seclusion.
“Be not bitter,” she tells her husband
In depression do not dwell
Remember us, your family
Live out your self-made hell.
Your children, poor and lonely
Miss close, warm family ties
Become prisoners real in walls
Unseen to agonize.
Think not that wide walls of freedom
Stand close to imprisoned few
Beyond gray bars, inside steel walls
Outside is a prison too.
– imelda dickinson
This poem is about a woman I saw, who was walking to meet her husband in a prison.
Personolly Yours Too is now available!
I am excited to announce that my latest book has just been published and is available on Amazon. Thank you for everyone who helped me. 🦋
Get it on Amazon as a paper version or digital download. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BCD4ZLLX/
Majesty
It was late at night, I was watching the magnificent heavens deep in the woods at my home in Mason, WI which inspired me to write this poem of constellations I was familiar with and those I researched.
Scripture explains it in brief:
“I Chronicles 29: “Blessed are You, Lord God, our Father, forever and ever. Yours, O Lord is the greatness, the power and the glory, the victory and the majesty; for all that is in heaven and in earth is Yours, Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and You are exalted as head over all.”
Psalms 8:4: “What is man that You are mindful o f him?
My latest book is complete and here comes Spring!
Hello everyone! I’m very happy that winter on its way out. My daughter Julie and I watched the lovely sunset the other night.
My newest book “Personolly Yours Too” is complete, and I am looking for a publisher. For this book, I dressed and made outfits for 61 dolls in this book! It’s been fun. Make sure you follow me on my website and on Facebook if you would like to be alerted when my book is available for purchase.
My next project will be planting spring flowers.
During this cold weather I have been amusing myself with reading, poetry, music and watching some classic TV programs, like my favorite Mr. Ed, The littlest Hobo, The Honeymooners and green acres.
I would love to hear how you are doing.
Love as always, Imelda and her butterflies. 🦋🦋🦋
A Carpenter’s carpenter
A Carpenter’s carpenter
Hearts hurt this mourning, echoes quiet grief
For a husband-father slipped beyond autumn’s leaf
Into winter’s winds so harsh, who can bear the pains?
Yesterday his nearness felt today only his remains.
Remember love like it was, unbroken circles knew
Life’s smoothness for time as it was, he and you
Recall family’s happiness given each a measure
A Carpenter of Scripture cradles a carpenter your treasure.
Poem written October 1986
For my friend June and her family in the loss of their grown son
![Hammer-and-nails[1]](https://i0.wp.com/imeldadickinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/Hammer-and-nails1.jpg?resize=750%2C500)
SOUNDS OF A SISTER
A Memorial of Kathleen Dickinson
SOUNDS OF A SISTER
Earth has music to those who will listen
Magic sounds make musical memories
Sounds of a Sister vault into family vision
Captures her warmth in late Summer’s breeze
Kathleen waves to America’s flag flying
Haiku Reflections
HAIKU REFLECTIONS
In the bay fields expanse complete lake’s glimmered glance
Quiet lovers withdraw in solitude entrusting lake’s cleansing mood
Her tears drop into soft sea taking dreams noiselessly
Waterfalls haste below to autumn’s crisp ember glow
Autumn moon, subdued to me deep in clouds, winks on silver sea
TALENT
TALENT
Aid beyond Terror’s fear
Meet Talent, with her Gift
Unique are They
Behind
Beyond
Wisdom suggests
Reminder
Across Your path
In Counsel darts
Beauty
And the
Binder
Poem by Imelda Dickinson, www.imeldadickinson.com
“A Spirit Visited” A poem about loss of son.
A Spirit Visited
Sad, dark paths sorrow leads
Where sorrow was not known
As death’s angel veiled takes away
A son, your very own
Years twenty given both of you
As parents this youth tender
Memories left now fill vaulted void
FEATHERED FLIGHT
FEATHERED FLIGHT
Decorated dancing bar for five year olds
Staged premiere audition
One smallest ballerina features capered recognition
Excited, spirit bubbling, her Dad knows her role
Pretending to be a make-believe, golden oriole
Slim legs lace hose of tan, trimmed body feathered things
Closed curtain splits! Mom proudly sits
As her daughter’s dainty feet grown visionary wings!
Poem by Imelda Dickinson
www.imeldadickinson.com
OCEAN, SANDS, SHELLS
OCEAN, SANDS, SHELLS
WHITE, BLUE CAP WAVES ROAR IN, PULL OUT
SWEEP DEEP OCEAN FLOOR
SHELLS SMOOTH, SHELLS ROUGH, POINT CURVED
PUSH ON BEACH AND SHORE
WAVES AND WINDS SHAPE
TO MY GRANDSON, BRADLEY
TO MY GRANDSON, BRADLEY
You’d never guess
What I really like
It’s red and shiny
My new red bike
It does just what
I make it do
Just watch and see
You’ll enjoy it too
When I can go
On a long, dirt path
Patches
PATCHES
Pink patches of clustered clouds hanging
On tree tops shadowed at dawn
Match puff pillows patrolling expecting
Sunrise’s splendor to look upon
Blue azure sky in heaven yawns
“Let not thy breath”
Let not thy breath utter into the wind unkindness
Icy stillness
Separates relationships
Estranged
Like strangers
A DACHSHUND’S OTHER LOVE
A DACHSHUND’S OTHER LOVE
One day I left home of my doghood, taken to a woods real from my dreams
By a person not my mistress, having a cat falling apart at her seams!
I sniffed for a long time for familiar odors of family beloved taken from me
Soon I lay on a new blanket provided by this lady who was kind as could be!
We’d run by roadways together. Smelling, snorting in Continue reading
“To a Friend” a poem of appreciation
TO A FRIEND, in appreciation
Your mixed spray of flowers lifted me at a time when spirits were low
Pastel beauteous petals extend out like a friend’s hands extend to know
Rosebud fragrance scent my office space. Once celestial Hands did form Continue reading
ANGELINA, little Teacher
ANGELINA, little Teacher
I entered Grande parlour of elegance where is placed bronze statue unique
Beside wide patio glass-paneled doors. “Shipped from Italy,†her Owner’s critique
Stepping closer, my curious nature sees child’s form, perhaps five, plus one
Clad poor, feet bare, head downcast. Continue reading
Barefoot on the Beach
Billowed, vast ocean, immeasurable seashore sand
Whispers beloved couple’s big dreams wondrously grand
Visions held in their hearts shared alone with God Continue reading
“AUTUMN’S DRESS”
Dawn’s mist fogs street silent alongside young maple tree
Shopping for approaching fall colors stationary marketing facsimile
Tweed gold filigree in earth tones weaves laced crimson colored leaf Continue reading
Poem about loss of a child.
I wrote this poem to my Niece Mary and her husband Scott about the loss of their newborn son.
If visions open vaults to see
Beyond Life to Eternity
Then, one small Stranger to you sent
Will always be a cherishment Continue reading
“Summer Surprise”
SUMMER SURPRISE
One lazy summer’s day, sunny Florida way
Sandy beach shores beckon me
Magnetized, my eyes see her mesmerized
By Creation’s Genius you’ll agree Continue reading
“Today Sleeps”
TODAY SLEEPS
Painted horizon of colored crimson
Stained aura pierce shadows gray
As Today’s clouds cloud sunset
Close in on what is Today Continue reading
“CONSCIOUS CONSCIENCE”
CONSCIOUS CONSCIENCE
Whispering in my conscience, faithful fiend to me
Discerns deceptions frock so false,, truth’s narrow systole
Chief counsel companion, divine design to mind
Speaks infinite wisdom, forewarns falsehood blind Continue reading
“Daydreams”
DAYDREAMS
On a day dreaming a day upon my soul
My mind reflects quietly thoughts to console
Faint I heard a whisper murmuring to me
Tapping my mind’s window, wanting to be free
Opening shutters, there I see my child so wee!
Imelda smiling at Myself covered with curiosity
She skipped with imagination, jumped with fantasy
Reaches her hand for mine, I felt ecstasy!
We danced round castles crystal to sit upon
Vaulted visions behind Continue reading
“A Spirit Visited” poem about loss of son.
A Spirit Visited
Sad, dark paths sorrow leads
Where sorrow was not known
As death’s angel veiled takes away
A son, your very own
Years twenty given both of you
As parents this youth tender
Memories left now fill vaulted void
Cherish them. Remember.
Though sands of life were few
His prints are left behind
Upon your night and morning Continue reading
UNSPOKEN WORDS, by Terri Foss
Here’s a beautiful poem by Terri Foss, of Washburn, WI.
Where can I find the words to heal the sadness and the pain that has touched your heart.
When words are not enough to say, my heart will speak in many ways. I believe our lives are as God intended them to be.
Although we don’t understand his ways when times feel so unfair, try to remember God will always be there.
All your loved ones from above will guide you with their love. For someday you will see together you all will be.
Terri Foss
EMPTY CHAIR
EMPTY CHAIRÂ
A man’s daughter had asked the local minister
To come and pray with her father.
When the minister arrived,
He found the man lying in bed with his head
Propped up on two pillows. 
An empty chair sat beside his bed.
The minister assumed that the old fellow
Had been informed of his visit.
“I guess you were expecting me, he said.
‘No, who are you?” said the father.
The minister told him his name and then remarked,
” I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew
I was going to show up.”
“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bedridden man.
Would you mind closing the door?”
Puzzled, the minister shut the door.
“I have never told anyone this,
Not even my daughter,” said the man.
“But all of my life I have never
Known how to pray
At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head.”
I abandoned any attempt at prayer,”
The old man continued, “
Until one day four years ago, my best friend said to me, “Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter
Of having a conversation with Jesus.
Here is what I suggest.
“Sit down in a chair;
Place an empty chair in front of you,
And in faith, see Jesus on the chair.
It’s not spooky because He promised,
‘I will be with you always’.
“Then just speak to him in the same way
You’re doing with me right now.”
“So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much
That I do it a couple of hours every day.
I’m careful though. If my daughter saw me talking
To an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.”
The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey.
Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil,
And returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called
To tell the minister that her daddy
Had died that afternoon.
Did he die in peace?” he asked.
Yes, when I left the house about two o’clock,
He called me over to his bedside,
Told me he loved me and kissed me on the cheek.
When I got back from the store an hour later,
I found him .
But there was something strange about his death. Apparently, just before Daddy died,
He Leaned over and rested his head on the chair
beside the bed. What do you make of that?”
The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said,
“I wish we could all go like that.”
Prayer is one of the best free gifts we give and receive.
I asked God for water, He gave me an ocean.
I asked God for a flower, He gave me a garden.
I asked God for a friend, He gave me all of YOU…
If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.
Happy moments, praise God.
Difficult moments, seek God.
Quiet moments, worship God
Painful moments, trust God.
Every moment, thank God.
God bless you my friends and may you pass in peace, into the next life, when your time has come.
Written by: unknown
I’m nobody, who are you?
I’m nobody, who are you?
Are you nobody too?
There’s a pair of us, don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know!
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog,
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
NOTE:
This is probably one of Emily Dickinson’s most famous poems. Knowing how tiny her life was you would think she wouldn’t have any “famous poems.” Emily’s style was what made her famous. She was a good observer. She wrote about tiny things you wouldn’t ordinarily notice. She had an interesting point of view. Her devices were similes and metaphors. She tended to favor them a little bit more. In this poem, she used similes. Like ” How public like a frog.” What I like about this poem is pretty much the idea. The idea of this poem sounds like a poem to cheer you up when you feel all alone so that you could know someone else is there in the same situation as you to defeat that loneliness. I observed she almost always in her poems uses “I.” instead of “he,she, or it .” My opinion of Emily’s poems is that they are very soothing. What we can all remember about her poetry is her “tiny” style.
I died for beauty, but was scarce. A poem by Emily Dickinson.
I di
ed for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth,–the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms.
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.
-Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ’tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.
NOTE:
Emily Dickinson left several versions of this poem.
This is the way it appeared in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson by Thomas H. Johnson. Regrettably, many early editors of Dickinson’s poems dropped the fourth stanza. The above poem includes the sometimes missing 4th stanza.
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