When I sat down to write a submission for the new Christmas with Hot Apple Cider anthology, a recent loss was weighing heavy on my heart.
A poem of remembrance.
My dear friend of many years had died a few weeks before, and I was missing her terribly. I knew I needed to write about her.
I don’t write much poetry. Even though I’ve taken courses on how to write it and last year even dived into OctPoWriMo, a 31-day poetry challenge, I don’t consider myself to be good at it.
But, although I don’t know if she ever wrote poetry, I knew Donna enjoyed reading it. And she liked the poems to rhyme. In fact, she felt poems ought to rhyme. This, then, was the challenge I gave myself: I would write a rhyming poem for Donna.
I did some planning as to the type of poem, the rhythm, and which lines to rhyme. Then I sat at the keyboard.
I must admit it was a struggle. But even though the subject was bittersweet, as I remembered the times Donna and I had shared, along with her smile, her laughter, and her way of putting me straight when I strayed from my path, words appeared and I found a great peace overflowing my grieving heart, and I realized that God was using my writing to heal the brokenness that was still so fresh.
It was a challenge to find the right words, especially for the lines that had to rhyme, but throughout the process, I could almost hear Donna encouraging me and cheering me on to the finish line (no pun intended). I wrote and deleted and rewrote until I couldn’t rhyme another word, and then I submitted it for approval.
When the poem was accepted for admission into the book, I was ecstatic. Not only because I had written something that someone else thought was good, but because I felt Donna smile as I opened that email.
Donna, I’m glad that everyone will now know what an amazing friend you were. I’ll see you later.
A side note: Because of my having done this, I’ve also developed a stronger admiration for poets. My advice to would-be poets? Find a patient editor! Thank you, NJ, for all the edits.
Lynne Collier, founder of White Rose Writers—The Business of Being An Author, is a contributor to four anthologies. She’s also the author of one autobiography (Raising Benjamin Frog: A Mother’s Journey with her Autistic Son) and six as-yet-unpublished speculative fiction novels. She lives in southern Ontario with her husband, Stephen.
It was interesting and moving to read the inside story of your poem, “Missing You” in Christmas with Hot Apple Cider.
Christmas is a time when I particularly miss the people who are no longer present with us in our daily lives.
I liked the way you gave clues instead of detailing your dear friend’s earthly journey. You made it intensely personal, and at the same time, there was room for those we, also, mourn.
“That which is personal is most universal.” is an expression attributed to many sources, perhaps because it rings so true. In sharing your own pain and your own hope and joy in the dancing, you’ve invited readers who have experienced something similar to join in the dance. Thank you.