POEM TITLED SAND BLASTED AND A SHORT INTRODUCTION
My name is Cheryl Brand (Brand is writers name). My legal name is Cheryl G. I have been writing for over 30 years. I have four books published in the Christian genre and can be found on Amazon. Com or any bookstore.
I live in Washington State USA and have been here for 45 years. In case you don't live here or have not looked at it on a map -- one side is very mild climate such as I grew up with in England, and the other side is desert -- such as I had no idea about before I lived here. It can be very hot up to and over 100 degrees, and very dry. In the fall there is a lot of pollen and some people call it the allergy capital of the world. On occasion there are desert winds that are quite forbidding -- most people will retreat into their houses to escape such a wind. I once had a car that had the paint taken off of one side of it because it was out in one such wind all day in the parking lot where I worked. So with that in mind, I would like to post my poem called SAND BLASTED here:
SAND BLASTED
It was in the desert that you brought me
To bring me up in your ways-
to show me who I was talking to...
and to count the worth of my days.
You spread me thin (more than thin) across
the dunes of sand and gravel and such
like the car that I took to work one day and
parked it in the middle of a storm of sand.
In the middle of the day, under the hot sun
when I came out to the parking lot after work
one side was black:
on the other it was grey.
When you see yourself in me:
when you see what I was made to be:-
(I'm still in the desert
Still under the heat of your hand)
I will stop being blasted by sand.
@cherylbrand
I live in Washington State USA and have been here for 45 years. In case you don't live here or have not looked at it on a map -- one side is very mild climate such as I grew up with in England, and the other side is desert -- such as I had no idea about before I lived here. It can be very hot up to and over 100 degrees, and very dry. In the fall there is a lot of pollen and some people call it the allergy capital of the world. On occasion there are desert winds that are quite forbidding -- most people will retreat into their houses to escape such a wind. I once had a car that had the paint taken off of one side of it because it was out in one such wind all day in the parking lot where I worked. So with that in mind, I would like to post my poem called SAND BLASTED here:
SAND BLASTED
It was in the desert that you brought me
To bring me up in your ways-
to show me who I was talking to...
and to count the worth of my days.
You spread me thin (more than thin) across
the dunes of sand and gravel and such
like the car that I took to work one day and
parked it in the middle of a storm of sand.
In the middle of the day, under the hot sun
when I came out to the parking lot after work
one side was black:
on the other it was grey.
When you see yourself in me:
when you see what I was made to be:-
(I'm still in the desert
Still under the heat of your hand)
I will stop being blasted by sand.
@cherylbrand
Comments
Post a Comment