The waves and long experience,
Have sunk a ship below.
Mourn not this craft of Theseus,
We lost ours long ago.
© Aimee Wood 2022
Dear Fellow Bard or Word-Lover,
Here you find a smattering of my poetry, often written in common measure. I compulsively wrote 300 poems over the last three years.
'Be still. A heart cannot heal fast.
Observe mine shifting hands.
A changing mind whose growth will last,
Must swim a tide of sands.'
Poetry helped me make sense of a traumatic ten year relationship, the divorce, my banishment from shattered communities, isolation borne from broken friendships, horrible injuries, disability, surgeries— and then, the slow growing seed of my new, different life; armed with the will and wisdom to mend hope, protect myself, and love again.
My poems await, perched in the trees,
Foul-feathered, patience gone.
They roost on branches, brave the breeze,
But dare not fly til dawn.
These poems have been collected into a book: “Merry Meet and Merry Part” is a guide through aging and timing, luck and loss, hope and rage— all the happy tragedies of life and love, following a philosophical thread; reuniting hardship with stoicism, without losing care and joy.
“Merry Meet & Merry Part”, launched on Kickstarter in October 2023. If you missed that little quest— worry not! Preorders are now open from my Etsy shop, and I hope to ship in the new year. ♥︎
In the mean time, enjoy the array of petit fours below, and I hope to add more here when time allows.
Merry meet!
Aimee
ps— all my writings are copyright Aimee Wood, but please feel free to share my poetry where you will, as long as my name and a link here is included. For commercial use, please contact me for arrangements.
pps— here is the RSS feed for this poetry blog. I do not send emails or letters for these poems, so an RSS reader is the only way to get notified of a new poem here. For apple users, I recommend NetNewsWire, “It’s like podcasts — but for reading.” I use it to follow many artists on many indie sites.
Or here is my latest published poem:
The waves and long experience,
Have sunk a ship below.
Mourn not this craft of Theseus,
We lost ours long ago.
© Aimee Wood 2022