GinNie Tanner Smith

GinNie Tanner Smith Poems

GinNie Tanner Smith Biography

Born to simple folk from North Vernon, Indiana, who divorced after my near death at age four, gave many challenges my emotional and social status in the forties to date. For six years I lived with a good Catholic couple, slept on a cot in their dining room and endured not seeing my two sisters or brother during that time. My mother's life style was known by all and indeed those good townsfolk deemed that I would be of the same troubled and undesirable type of woman. However, the woman I called Aunt Bert, placed in my heart that I may not be better than anyone else, I was certainly as good. She mentored me through grade school and the taunts of my classmates and others in the community. I moved to my Uncle's home where our family had founded Boone County, at Florence, Kentucky. There the world opened up to acceptance and such positive opportunities; it was if the Ohio river divided two greatly different worlds. My innate talents of the arts were developed by various teachers and family members along the way and gave me a sense of empowerment to sustain me. The faith of my pioneer ancestry and personal experiences have been powerful to form a simple woman who simply shares the scars, the healing, the verses and ponderings that fill my heart and soul nearly every moment of every day.)

The Best Poem Of GinNie Tanner Smith

Hearken To The Whispers Of The Ages

Hearken to the Whispers of the Ages
Gin-Nie Tanner Smith, January 19th,2009
Copyright 2009 ©

Listen to the urging of your mind's voice,
Whispers sliding through the ages of time,
Reaching through dimensions and generations,
Let the past only teach and nurture you my child,
Hearken to the whispers of the ages;

Do not revel in the trivialities of yesterday,
But rejoice in the enlightenment of this very day,
Leave at the feet of your children,
Green grass, flowers, clear water of faith,
Nourishment given as if germinating seeds;

Injustice is only a word if you live for peace,
It will not sully your heart, being or soul,
If you live in the posture of the power of hope,
Place your vigor in the protection of the innocent,
War, if the evil is without boundaries or guard;

For evil cannot be measured with reason or sanity,
But stalled by the clenched fists of the right hand,
The combined fists of the unification of mankind,
Whose souls are of the conscientious flock,
Hearken to the whispers of the ages;

There is no right or left party within right or wrong morality,
Only the peaceful pastures of respect and self-sacrifice,
Wrong is that which defeats the innocence of children,
Stand together, hand in hand, feel the pulse of thy neighbor,
Know that it is as yours, progeny of the same earth;

Though oft varied hues of clay, reflected within the eyes,
Are the souls that cry out for supplications,
Heed my pain, hear my joys, share my wisdom,
For this we will be free, move forward in strength,
As you hearken to the whispers of the ages.

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