Shel
by Marcie Flinchum Atkins
You opened the world
of poetry
to me
through the gift of Shel.
I memorized, chanted and sang
"Ickle Me,
Pickle Me,
Tickle Me Too."
I read The Light in the Attic,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
until the pages were dog-eared,
yellowed with age.
Important moments,
holidays, calls
were few,
but you gave me the gift of words,
the music of poetry.
Those poems still sit on my shelf
and I visit them
once in awhile.
His words will always inspire me--
my first link
to my love of poetry.
Shel will always be
what connects
me to
you.
of poetry
to me
through the gift of Shel.
I memorized, chanted and sang
"Ickle Me,
Pickle Me,
Tickle Me Too."
I read The Light in the Attic,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
until the pages were dog-eared,
yellowed with age.
Important moments,
holidays, calls
were few,
but you gave me the gift of words,
the music of poetry.
Those poems still sit on my shelf
and I visit them
once in awhile.
His words will always inspire me--
my first link
to my love of poetry.
Shel will always be
what connects
me to
you.
Poetry Friday roundup is at Writing and Ruminating.
4 comments:
What a lovely gift - his to you, and yours back to him. I went into Mr. Linky and fixed your link - it was going to your Feb. 1st post, so I deleted and reentered so folks will find your beautiful poem.
What a lovely tribute. Thanks, Marcie!
What a beautiful poem. Reminds us of how important those few gifts of poetry of books really are... life changing! You are blessed.
I know Shels poems are great. My mother read some of them to me when I was a kid too. They are so unique, and a lot of them make you laugh.
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