This year to celebrate National Poetry Month and to take part in the April A-Z Blogging Challenge, I’ll be posting two poems a day, one written by me and another poem written by one of my favourite poets. The title or first word of both poems will begin with the corresponding letter in the Blogging Challenge.
As there’s no AtoZ on Sundays, today’s theme for the National Poetry Month daily poem will be ‘Sunday’.
Today, two poems, one called Sunday Lunch by Luccia Gray and Sunday Afternoons, by Erica Jong.
Sunday Lunch
She spoke her mind,
Unencumbered by convention.
‘Naked words’, she humbly declared,
Despite the hate they hid. He dared to disagree.
Another Sunday lunch. My in-laws,
Yelling in the kitchen.
****
Norman Rockwell’s painting represents what Sunday lunches should be like, good food, happy families, laughter, peace and harmony, but unfortunately, it’s not always the case.
Sunday Afternoons by Erica Jong
I sit at home
at my desk alone
as I used to do
on many sunday afternoons
when you came back to me,
your arms ached for me,
and your arms would close me in
though they smelled of other women.
I think of you
on Sunday afternoons.
Your sweet head would bow,
like a child somehow,
down to me –
and your hair and your eyes were wild.
We would embrace on the floor-
You see my back´s still sore.
You knew how easily I bruised,
It´s a soreness I would never lose.
I think of you
on Sunday afternoons