Today I am sharing some poetry I wrote for a submission to an anthology. I just gave it a title, so it’s not permanent. Poetry: Hope for My Son. It was the first time I sent a pitch and it was the first rejection that I’ve received as a writer.
I plan to get used to it as I hear that it’s a common thing once I start approaching agents and publishers.
The rejection came with grace, and included a very nice personal note from one of the editors that was also my mentor at The Writer’s Studio Online. They encouraged me to shop out my story elsewhere, but I haven’t been able to put my mind to that just yet, so I thought I’d share it here instead.
The poem came to me one day while I was walking Archer to school. I had the pitch in mind at the time, and since I don’t normally take my phone with me on our walks to school, I repeated the first lines to myself over and over on the way home so that I wouldn’t forget.
A planner and a blank page. Not a lot more that a writer could as for, is there?
Hope for my Son
I hope he always turns to wave,
knows I’m there, regardless of if he sees me,
standing in the rain,
feet wet
tired.
I hope he sees me, writing, working, trying
to put pen to paper, fingers to keys,
creativity the oxygen feeding my actions
from a place within my soul.
I hope he sees me following my dreams
and follows his.
Whether they take him to the moon,
the canvas, the page, across the world.
At least I’ll get to visit, enjoy his art, be happy in his happiness,
see my dreams made real through him living his.
I love that I was inspired by Archer to write some poetry, and this applies to Maverick, too. If you're a parent, I hope it resonates with you about you and your kids, too.
With a mother’s love,
Anya