Today Is: Sunday, June 07, 2020 06:19 AM. Our Topic of the Week: Unity

Check our Help area first!

Comments? Suggestions?

Contact us now!

We like hearing feedback from members on how to improve the site!

Author Name: Freeborderline_mary 2 Comments
Date Added: October 20, 2011 10:10:08 Average Score: (Needs 1)
Views This Week
Members: 1
Unique Members: 1
Guests: 163
Total Views
Members: 7
Unique Members: 7
Guests: 456

Type: Rhyming
Category: Sonnet Add To Favorites | Text Only
A little dead-brown woman in the grass
Below the mountains over Idaho,
Near bluffs that stand like castle walls in gold,
Blocks out the light with one hand made of glass
And wishes for the swift onset of snow,
For now she knows she never will grow old.
The miles before her feet have left her dumb,
Have brought her aching eyes and fine-scarred skin,
And turned her smallest fancies into sin
To leave her here where shadows never come.
Her dead-brown dream no better than a thief—
Surrender seems a smaller thing than grief;
And on the patient earth she waits for sleep,
For everything she has, she knows she'll keep.
Author's Notes:
Report Offensive Poem.

'Idaho' Copyright © Jessica Ruth Myr
Copyright is property of the above author or group. Reproduction in whole or in part is strictly prohibited.
Click here if you feel this poem is in violation of a copyright.
Click here to send this poem to someone!

Comment By: PremiumDavid Turner on October 20, 2011 03:32:55 PM Report
This is a a beautiful sonnet Jessica. The images are stunning. I too am quite unsure who the little brown woman could be, but the pathos in this is very moving. In the end we must all be prepared to surrender. I will bend my knee somewhere along the banks of the River Tyne or halfway up the path to Penny Pie House  near Blanchland Northumberland.

Warm Wishes


Comment By: FreeFirestone Feinberg on October 20, 2011 01:35:10 PM Report
'Idaho' is a painting.  I'm not at all sure 'what it means,'  [I'm dense that way], but it sure sounds like a special thing.  Unused to reading sonnets here -- always a pleasure to see the form.  My favorite line is: 'Surrender seems a smaller thing than grief;' -- I just love the rhythm and the natural flow of the words: congratulations on a fine work of art done:  With.  Love. --David


Check for Announcements.
on our Home page!

User poems are sometimes graced by images and textures stored on our site
courtesy of, Sandy Hradil, and Sherri Emily.

Welcome, Guest!

Become part of our
friendly community
of on-line writers!

Join today!
Forget Username or Password?

Members On Line: 0
Guests On Line: 47
Members in Chat: 0

Happy Birthday

We Thank You!

For your donations
and subscriptions!
P.O. Box 7931
The Woodlands, TX 77387

Copyright © 2003-2017  All Rights Reserved. Use of this site is subject to certain
Terms of Service rules which constitute a legal agreement between you and
By providing links to other sites, neither approves of, endorses, or gurantees
any information, opinions, or products found on those sites. Users follow links at their own risk.