Blush Quiver Tenderness
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3:43 pm
Twilight
paints blush
on the cheek
of the sky.
I’m home
alone
writing a poem
letting
the tenderness
of the hour
buoy my
deflating spirits
after a day
of shooting
arrows of literature
into the minds
of stubborn students.
Now, I slide
those arrows
back into the quiver
of my heart
where they’ll
sharpen
for another day.
Even after a day of slinging arrows at stubborn students, you've left yourself enough creativity of hit a bulls-eye.
ReplyDeletewrite on target! :) Nice work!
ReplyDeleteu teach literature? u must have a bunch of happy students!
ReplyDeletehaving listened to my daughter complain how difficult it is to student teach asl and tell students to behave when you can't speak... this spoke volumes.
ReplyDeletenice, arrows sharpen in the quiver of your heart, very nice. where do you suppose cupid quivers his arrows?
ReplyDeleteI love this, you know how to use your words to convey even the simplest emotion, I like the first part
ReplyDeleteOH how I wish I could write like you Linda.
ReplyDeletesimply beautiful.
This spoke out me. But you know why!
ReplyDeletewarming up to you and lot more...
ah a beauty!!
ReplyDeleteLinda...just beautiful.
ReplyDeleteso well done! the "shooting arrows of literature into the minds of stubborn students" is perfect! then returning them for sharpening overnight - made me smile.
ReplyDelete