Here's a poem written by my American friend, poet and artist Marcella Brown. I'm off to Sligo to see the lovely Martha and while deciding what bag to bring, I remembered this poem which Marcella sent me recently. That's my bag! Yay!
THE MUSTARD PURSE
I wonder how it feels
to be a mustard purse,
to hold the secrets precious to a woman.
The color makes me quiver
from the inner sanctum of my eye.
I have to touch this mustard purse
just to hold its grassy hue.
I'd like to be a mustard purse
so I could be caressed and held,
hung and slung,
opened and undone,
guarding coins and pens and books,
stashing buried notes
...and poet's quotes.
3 comments:
fantastic poem! very visual even without the image. I want to touch the mustard purse! Love it!
fab looking 'purse' too, have a great time with Martha
x
Hope you're having a great time, Nuala. Love the poem and the bag (that beautifully soft, squashy leather in a warm, ochre-y shade ... well chosen!).
Enjoying your blog. Thank you! Slan, Minnie x.
Marcy is an artist too - hence the visual quality, Kar.
Minnie - thank you. We had a lovely time though it was stormy. It ALWAYS rains when we go to Sligo!
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