'High Hair' Poem by Marianne Reninger

'High Hair'



High Hair, Lofty Ambition,
Independent air, defying Tradition.
Smooth as silk, Nureyev moves,
By Leaps and Bounds and martial art grooves.

Poetry in Motion, here comes the pitch,
Wound up like a spring, and then released.
The abject terror of a solo show,
So what, fear dismissed, he found his niche.

High Hair, soft lip,
Just beginning to let life rip.
So much to do, So much to learn
For world adventures and love, he'll soon yearn.

High Hair, Fashion plate,
Life's cares and pains can clearly wait.
Indestructible, joyous, energy to High Heaven,
Oh how Grand it must be to be Eleven!

Marianne Larsen Reninger

Monday, March 21, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: grandson,growth
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dimitrios Galanis 04 September 2016

Pamela's eye can capture what we, others, can not.Reading her comments we can understand too.She is right, you picture the impression of the training in taek-wo do.

0 0 Reply
Pamela Sinicrope 21 March 2016

What a lovely poem about your grandson! You capture so much of the joy of youth in your writing. Good use of repetition alliteration rhyme. This is obviously a well crafted poem that moves with the music and energy of a boy of 11. What I like most of all is the way you've captured the way a young person lives in the moment..and the observation of that from an 'older' person, who clearly appreciates that while also stepping back and looking at the full picture from past, present, and then future. I almost imagine you're watching him do a performance or competition of some sort as you tell his story. So well done.

0 0 Reply
Marianne Reninger 23 March 2016

Thanks again Pamela for reading this fairly private and inconsequential poem. Yes, my grandson shows his graces in Tai-kwon-do and Baseball and it is such a pleasure to be his audience. You always are able in your critiques to capture the essence of what a poet is trying to say!

0 0
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success