Gillian Commerford Poems
|122.||Everything Was Swept Away||6/1/2013|
|124.||Waiting To Be Eaten||11/15/2012|
|127.||Losing My Mind||11/2/2013|
|128.||A Very Short Poem About Trees||5/6/2014|
|132.||I Although Not Beautiful||8/25/2013|
|133.||Don'T Be A Poet||11/17/2012|
Don'T Be A Poet
I told my mother:
'I want to be a poet'.
She said: 'There's no money in it'.
I never was much interested
in making money.
I knew the need to feed my soul.
I knew that money could keep me fed and clothed
but poetry would make me whole.
God The Mother
I begin to see God as Mother
as the one who holds me to Her breast
as the one who nurtures
as the one in whose arms
l may lie
with complete surrender
with complete trust