She never kept a journal, put her life
on paper for posterity to read,
and all I know of her is she was wife
to great-great grandpa and she shared his need
to join a fledgling church, to cross the plains.
Where are the pages that would let me know
of life in Winter Quarters, of the pains
when her first child was born and died there?Oh,
I wish I knew her thoughts when she saw four
of her nine children laid in tiny mounds
and when her husband left to go once more
where prophets called.Did faith beyond earth's bounds
sustain her, give her triumph over tears?
Her words would be a bond to bridge the years.
Oh, I wish I knew her thoughts when she saw four of her nine children laid in tiny mounds and when her husband left to go once more where prophets called. a fine poem. tony
Wow! A flawless sonnet, perfect in every way: rhyme, meter, meaning and emotion. Also, the title fits well with the poem. This is too good for Poem Hunter. You should have saved it for a contest, But maybe it has already won in some contest?
I like this poem about a real person, her trials, and your desire to know the details. Perhaps she wrote about it, but it was lost. Some things may never be known. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a marvelous sonnet about your ancestor! You are probably the most talented poet I have yet found on this website!