Joyce Chelmo


Mosaic - Poem by Joyce Chelmo

Amidst the dull maize sunset
and the chill of soon to come night.
I wait for darkness to descend, a welcome friend.
My muse rises from depths, a whisper
barely audible, pressing, a hunger
that needs to be fed.

She sings of present and past alike.
Memories that have to be told,
Thoughts of youth, things of now, shards
of my life gathered, abstract pictures
painted in mosaics of me.


Comments about Mosaic by Joyce Chelmo

  • Brian Dorn (10/23/2006 11:52:00 AM)


    A stunning piece from beginning to end... brilliantly done, Joyce!
    Brian
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  • (5/1/2006 12:05:00 AM)


    Thank you Greg! ! You made my day.

    Joyce
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  • (4/30/2006 1:05:00 AM)


    Completely captivated by 'My muse rises from depths, a whisper / barely audible, pressing, a hunger / that needs to be fed.' In my case, my muse screams at me, often in foreign tongues, that it invariably takes inordinate intervals of time to translate, then transcribe-that it's quite maddening, to say the least, and always when the darkness descends. I can see why you would have this framed; a sheer delight, Joyce.

    All my best to you, Red,

    Greg
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  • (4/28/2006 9:21:00 PM)


    Sandra and Hugh thank you both so much. I have this poem framed
    on my kitchen wall. I have a mozaic as a backsplash behind my sink.

    Red
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  • (4/28/2006 9:57:00 AM)


    Clarity of vision. Fine descriptive imagery. Your word picture paints itself into the reader's mind.

    Kind regards,

    Sandra
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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 28, 2006



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