Vol. III Fall/Winter 

2008-2009   

Poetry written by Cheltenham Township Adult School Workshop Participants      

Home

Poems
in this issue

Linda Barrett

Ruth Deming

Jan Felgoise

Marion Fox

Angela Glover

Jan Goldman

Maxine Hobbs

Grace Lynch

Marvin Thall

 

Edited by Kristine Grow

For more information about
 writing workshops offered by
the Cheltenham Township Adult School, contact:

Cheltenham Township Adult School
1414 Panther Road
Wyncote, PA 19095
Phone: 215-887-1720

 

Grace Lynch 

Grace Lynch grew up in Virginia and moved to Abington 14 years ago. She is retired from nursing, teaching and mental health counseling. She has attended two fall terms of "Poetry Writing" in the Cheltenham Adult School.

 

Be Not Conformed…..

 

Hidden and insulated from the enticement

My world was about rules and plain truths.

Conformity.

Be not conformed to this world….

The freakin’ world.  Danger.  Evil.

 

‘Holy men’ drew me into the world of their ideas

Closed to the dance.

Suffering little rawness and newness

Sewed up in a quilt of the feminine.

Quiet. Unspoken.

 

Others did not protest

Fell into the trance of obedience

Falling.

On the outside

I waited.  Wanting to be on the inside

Escape had no rules.

 

Truth

Came not by a light from the heavens.

From a seed in the underground

Soil of doubt

Nourished by anger and light from the ground

Under foot.

 

Grew into a tree of many branches

Roots made strong by stumbling and hope

Watered by the visions from the feminine

Cutouts from sacred friends.

Creative.  Instinctive. 

Truth.

 

 

Surrender

 

Letting go so I’m free to do

   What I am to do.

Fearlessly, I loosen my grip

    On the affairs of my life.

Then what?

Anarchy of the parts who divide me

   Into a whirlpool

Going in circles.  Sputtering.

Then trying with every head cell to

     Control the eddy of

Oughts and shoulds and goodness.

The head is in charge of my fears of

     Submission to the heart.

Submission to the moment

To the self who I am.

The head meets the heart.

Again why do I fear surrender?

Meeting myself at peace with the moment,

I fear the whirlpool.

The heart is weaker than the head.

Share your power.

The heart needs some of your strength. 

 

 

 

 

"Storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it."

Hannah Arendt 

 

Editor's note:
  At
this time, The Tookany Review is accepting only the work of writers who are enrolled or have been enrolled in Cheltenham Adult School writing workshops.

Home

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Web Page Created with PageBreeze Free HTML Editor