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.
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.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely tribute. Thanks, Marcie!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem. Reminds us of how important those few gifts of poetry of books really are... life changing! You are blessed.
ReplyDeleteI 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.
ReplyDelete