Poems by Brother Ollie: the Tired Monk
Tremendously touching, Ollie...I love the last verse! And your words evoke a past time and place...took me back to warm, misty mornings in Ontario when we first emigrated and summer promised to stretch on forever...
aw. and ya know, you're supposed to do stuff to maintain these benches, they deteriorate. like a tired monk. or a tired mama.
i stole your tag on purpose. maybe i should link that part to here.
I love your philosophical tired monk poems, Ollie. There is a memorial bench in my town too, with someone's name fading away.......
This bench was put there for my friend Marc - he was also the topic of my first Blog...he was a truly awesome Tired Monk.
Actually...my 3rd...thanks Peeps.
It seems memorial plaques always wear away...oftentimes way too soon.
This reminds me of a memorial bench with my father in law's name on it by the NJ shore. I always wonder about who will maintain it because we live so far away. It's sad to see those benches with the fading names, sort of like fading memories...
Ollie, I love it and you have a plaque for the Old Monk, nicely done~! A tribute to the monk's life; reflection of nature's gifts! Nice job~
This is lovely. When sitting on a bench with a memorial plaque I often wonder of the history behind it.Anna :o]
and is that plaque made of mossand is that writinggrowth and deathi love the slow unfolding of thisas i love the slow unfolding of mornings near the lakexoerin
An empty bench, just sitting there waiting - love that image, Ollie.
your poems are always so crisp and apt and thought provoking. loved the image.
Old Ollie,Nothing less than respect for the bench and the memory attached to it.Eileen
Lovely. Finely observed, your poem - and of the picture as well. I completely missed the plaque there - and you made such a lovely poem out of it. Thanks.Richard
Thanks for helping with the development of Olsonomics.