Adrianne Quinlan Poems
- The Whipping Tree Grandfather had always been fond of ...
- A Heart's Plea A bit of sun-shine, I plea, To enter a ...
- Shock And Awe Vague, ethereal presence, Hiding gold at your...
- Suddenly When love suddenly dies Without reason or call, ...
- Mysterious Forces I often wonder If their touch is ...
- Tangible As we look out Over the quiet lake There is no ...
- Sun And Devine Death Winter's darkness Falls with my ...
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The Whipping Tree
Grandfather had always been fond of whippings.
It's his one release,
And mother still bears the scars.
Her only sibling rests in a small grave out back
Next to mama's Angel oak tree.
And grandmother lies beside him.
I watch over them now - grandmother, uncle and mother.
Although injured when still quite young and
Not able to move about,
I am old enough.
Mother is old now
But still she talks of the happiness she felt
When I first moved in her womb.
And grandfather has gone mad,
Always complaining of heat.
His good eye, forever seeing ...