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Donna Lee Davis

Donna Lee DavisDonna Lee DavisDonna Lee Davis

writer

writer writer
SHEER POETRY REVISITED AT AMAZON

Paperback & kindle - love poems, prayer poems, light verse

FOR SALE ONLINE AT

AMAZON.COM

BARNES AND NOBLE (BN.COM)

INDIE (INDIEBOUND.ORG)

TRADITIONAL, INSPIRATIONAL

THE RICH IMAGERY CELEBRATES PASSION, WHIMSY, AND DEEP FAITH

TESTIMONIALS

IN PRAISE OF SHEER POETRY (1981):

"I have read each line of each stanza, and am trying to determine my favorite--maybe a not very fruitful approach, since each has and is part of a mood of its own.  Please  continue.  We who write about such horrors as war need your reminders of another world."--the late Cardinal John J. O'Connor, Archbishop of New York and author of A Chaplain Looks at Vietnam


"They resemble the poems of Emily Dickinson . . . old-fashioned in the way the poetry of A. E. Housman is old-fashioned--the simple language, the short lines, the rueful look at love . . . I do not use these hallowed names irreverently but I see a definite connection and one which in no way dishonors these great writers.  I offer my congratulations."--the late Levin Houston, The Free Lance-Star


AND IN PRAISE OF SHEER POETRY REVISITED:

"Taut, powerful poetry.  Much in little.  Unflinching honesty in expression of universal issues of the heart.  Mastery of condensation.  Total control of both the short emotion-filled poem and the longer humorous narrative or depiction of love.  Deserves a much wider audience and recognition of worth. My prediction:  This poet's acclaim is yet to come."--the late Sydney H. Mitchell, Professor Emeritus of English, UMW


"Donna Lee Davis writes tight, taut . . . and vivid.  The poems in this lovely volume generally take less than a page but still manage to be powerful."--Melanie Rigney, Author

EXCERPTS

GEMSTONES

I WAS AN ANGEL

I WAS AN ANGEL

We tear each other with claws--

sharpened on the gemstones

we hide in place of hearts.

Primitive--pitiless--

we slash, we rend, we tear.

We crush with careless words

more cruel than armies;

torture upon racks of disparate pride;

we parry, thrust, for new plateaus of pain.

And because we love--because we hate--

each other, like gemstones we endure.

I am opal; you are moonstone.

Both hold ancient fires; both are cool.

I WAS AN ANGEL

I WAS AN ANGEL

I WAS AN ANGEL

I was an angel before I was born;

my mother told me so.

An aura of leftover stardust

surrounds me, wherever I go.

I may not be pretty, beloved or clever,

or rich, and forever

my world may be flat.

But I was an angel before I was born;

there's some consolation in that.

TRANSLUCENCIES

I WAS AN ANGEL

TRANSLUCENCIES

Mayfly wing in slumber;

hummingbird's in flight.

Waxen sails at sunrise;

waterfall at night.

Ice upon a window;

parchment of an age;

eyes of one near dying;

truths upon a page.

Sister Therese tatting

lacework from a spool,

tenuous as floss silk,

gossamer as tulle.

Veins within her temples

throb a cloistered blue;

coursing thoughts pellucid

meditate on hue,

symmetry, refraction--

mysteries such as these--

God's sheer poetry in 

all translucencies.


Copyright © 2018 - 2021, Donna Lee Davis - All Rights Reserved.


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