Mothers and Daughters, Women

I am suppose to survive,
a woman, we love fast,
hard. Forgiving sprits
beautifully constructed.
Dear diary's collide
into moments, songs
speak a truth, laying
in our lips and eyes.
Carrying ourselves
with dignity and pride,
crashing with our
first tear.

Deidre Grotbo

Petals of a Rose

Sun sets in your hair,
pierced lip sings a song
of a revolution . The artist,
I will call you. Drawing pictures
of goddess and gods.
Kurt and Angelina's
lover, husband and wife all
together. Pagan sign hangs
on your neck, magick in
one green eye, one blue.
Daring and spontaneous
woman, writing of past
lives, standing up for what
you believe in. Laughing out loud,
making no sense to anybody, except your heart.
Angels exist, tattooed on your ankle.
I will miss you, Angel.
Farewell, until we meet again.

Deidre Grotbo