Ruth Walters Poems
|481.||My Mother's Hands||5/26/2012|
|484.||A Matter Of Tax||5/13/2015|
|487.||1 A Lump Of Old Metal||7/18/2012|
|488.||Sieving And Seizing||3/19/2014|
|489.||A Small Grey Box||10/13/2011|
|490.||A Dolls Eye View||8/5/2012|
|491.||A Cold Bed||10/11/2012|
|492.||A Little Hot Gossip||9/20/2012|
|496.||If I Were A Flower||5/12/2011|
Comments about Ruth Walters
The toe bone's connected to
lush grass, early mornings, bird song
The heel bone's connected to you,
how you look when you're ahead
The foot bone's connected to determination,
how you keep going when all is crumbling
The leg bone's connected to your fears,
your wobbles, how you need support
The knee bone's connected to your knee jerk
reactions to this crazy world
The thigh bone's connected to your inner strength
that helps you take control
The back-bone's connected to work,
hard work, hard work, sheer hard work
The neck ...
How many nails do I have to have
hammered into my brain to realise
we don't fit?
This liaison has always been flawed.
Gel, we never did, but we had passion.
A wealth of it.
Should I take this hammer