National Poetry Month: Day #11

The prompt for today was to write a Anacreontic poem (basically, a seven syllabic line with rhyming couplets) about wine-and-love.

I accepted the challenge, as always, but with my own twist. This morning a friend of mine posted something on her Facebook that resonated deep within me. This friend has suffered through many struggles – her husband is fighting a painful cancer, she’s lost close family members to death, she herself has had multiple health problems, and the list goes on. Her post stated that two songs best describe what she’s been dealing with lately: “Worn” by Tenth Avenue North and “Held” by Natalie Grant.

Worn and held–these two words hummed in my mind and soul all day long. When it came to writing this poem, I decided to write about love – truelove – the kind that comes along once in a lifetime. The kind of love that loves and waits and worries through excruciating cancers and health problems exacerbated by stress. The kind of love that partners so deeply, death may separate the bodies, but never the souls.

I dedicate this poem to a true Warrior Woman: Christina Thomas-Reilly.

Worn and Held

A warrior woman stately,
she wears her duty greatly
like an elegant long gown
loosely draped and flowing down.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

There’s a confidence and trust
even when life seems unjust
that speaks the power of grace,
that shines brightly on her face.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

Though often simply worn out,
she stands steady and devout.
When asked how she manages,
she lists the advantages
of resting in her Savior
held safely through all failure.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

In the midst of disaster,
she runs straight to the Master
who hears her heart while she weeps–
gently holds her while she sleeps.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

The warrior weary and worn
lays down the burden she’s born.
She pours out her life like oil,
plants love in the fertile soil
deep within her lover’s soul.
So relinquish all control
sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.