Welcome to my Poet Lady Chat Room. I would like to invite you to click on the chat box and type in a question, a suggestion, submit a poem, in other words – “chat with me.” I may, if you submit a poem, decide to feature it in my Poem of the Week section or, we may simply exchange ideas and suggestions about your poem.
This is a place to “talk” poetry with someone who has loved it all her life. I have a true passion for the possibilities of poetry and would love to hear your thoughts and/or read your poem. I will be happy to offer my reaction to your work and, based on over 40 years of teaching poetry, organizing, and conducting poetry workshops, working as a book review editor for an international poetry magazine, authoring five books of poetry and two textbooks on teaching poetry, send along my thoughts on ways to make your poem stronger and more impactful.
If you’re on my site, you have a connection to poetry. Feel free to connect with me – right here -right now, by typing your message into the “chat box” and clicking send. I’m waiting…
Your friend in poetry, Susan
FEATURED POEM
Child Labour
The one who got a chance to get out of the ghettos,
The one who was instructed to always be on her toes,
Was, insouciantly, lurking on the lush, virescent Meadows,
only to loose control over her will; being childish and playing with Shadows.
Spirits don't cast them: she was aware of the fact.
Thinking of a peaceful departure, she kept her believe intact.
Her aesthetic writing was shouting; the signature on the pact.
She was exquisite than her handwriting; her ideas were abstract.
She was exploited for years, but what to extract?
She was a victim of inhumane treatment, to be exact!
She moved out of the bushes only to see an angel coming on land.
With sudden blaze she hung aloft, holding some clothes in her hand.
Soon the little girl was dressed beautifully in that sleek, sooty grey gown.
The angel vanished, leaving behind, a weeny, royal crown.
A white collar along with a black band went round his waist.
She decided to admire her first, not to make haste.
She danced on the green grass and smelled the petrichor.
She felt every inch of the life that she longed for.
Later, she paid heed to the signary,
which read: This is your chance to get your soul free.
She agreed to it and her hairs become straight from frizzy.
She dosed off while she felt somewhat a little bit dizzy.
Alas! This world has again made a child suffer.
By heartlessly creating a child labour!
But the nature was happy for her, happy was the heavenly spirit.
As through all the vision she enjoyed her part that she didn't inherit.