To the Editor,
I am a resident of Maristone Assisted Living in Mt. Juliet. I am 86 years old.
My book of poetry was published last spring. Another book of Wilson County history was recently published.
I am enclosing two of my poems. If you use them, I will be pleased.
Editor's note: Ms. Bradshaw, we would be happy to run your poem (the other was on Thanksgiving). Hopefully this brings a smile to your face and to those who read it as it did ours.
It's the blue and goldest morning
That November ever brought.
All the upland is laced with azure
Where the maple flames have wrought.
Purple mists rose up the valley
Burning smoky in the sun,
And still there lies more beauty
Where the swollen waters run.
The leaves are falling
Into the air,
And where they will land
We know not where.
I'm amazed at the colors of different kinds of leaves
And together, how they blend,
And then I know how the different kinds of persons
Are surely blended friends.
There's a tang that makes the blood race,
And a beauty makes you ache,
And only God knows the timing
Of where each leaf finds its place.
Then, let the LORD tell us
For what He would have us be.
Let this glorious autumn morning
Speak to you - and to me.