suzyhazelwood
DSC05924-02t
Taken to go with the poem below. The poem is about my mothers letters of encouragement... not just written to me, despite being confined to bed for many years with chronic pain from rheumatoid arthritis she wrote to many people the most beautiful letters. The letter in the picture is actually one of hers and the vintage photo is her on a beach in Norfolk with my older brother when he was about three years old. This is the first picture I've taken specifically to go with a poem.
i wish my hand could write as yours
words falling from your indigo pen
easing over the page like morning rain on thirsty grass
receiving hearts blossomed like flowers at the turn of spring
as the balm of you unfolded from dainty envelopes
sealed with confident queenly stamps
scattering tiny pieces of your enchanted soul
how i miss those condolences
little papers of parcelled love
still i grieve for everything you were
knowing that kind of peace
only transpired from your quiet mind
one who never laid hands on a perfume bottle
but was filled with the fragrance of flourishing meadows
the only mortal i ever knew
who was certain to stitch a broken heart together
with a line of inky blue
Original post -> suzyhazelwood.tumblr.com/post/170808236495/i-wish-my-hand...
DSC05924-02t
Taken to go with the poem below. The poem is about my mothers letters of encouragement... not just written to me, despite being confined to bed for many years with chronic pain from rheumatoid arthritis she wrote to many people the most beautiful letters. The letter in the picture is actually one of hers and the vintage photo is her on a beach in Norfolk with my older brother when he was about three years old. This is the first picture I've taken specifically to go with a poem.
i wish my hand could write as yours
words falling from your indigo pen
easing over the page like morning rain on thirsty grass
receiving hearts blossomed like flowers at the turn of spring
as the balm of you unfolded from dainty envelopes
sealed with confident queenly stamps
scattering tiny pieces of your enchanted soul
how i miss those condolences
little papers of parcelled love
still i grieve for everything you were
knowing that kind of peace
only transpired from your quiet mind
one who never laid hands on a perfume bottle
but was filled with the fragrance of flourishing meadows
the only mortal i ever knew
who was certain to stitch a broken heart together
with a line of inky blue
Original post -> suzyhazelwood.tumblr.com/post/170808236495/i-wish-my-hand...