Saturday, June 28, 2008

42. Mandela

Sorry to inundate you! But there's only one window of opportunity to write this little offering.
MANDELA

At twenty
He raised his voice,
He thumped his table,
He wrote powerful letters,
He hammered on the walls of his prison.
He was a leader,
And an orator.
And the world didn't hear him.

At ninety, when he spoke,
The whole world hung on his words.

7 comments:

Marmot Mom said...

Brenda! I really enjoyed your poetry! If you don't mind, I'd like to share "Deflowered" with my fellow gardening blog members :) Keep up the writing and thanks for stopping by to see me at MarmotMail. (P.S. Rosco the Dog sends his regards :)

MarmiteToasty said...

This is lovely, fanks for sharing..... I popped over from Cis (Simple Minds) blob :)

x

Bear Naked said...

Beautiful beautiful poem.
Thank you for sharing.

Pradeep said...

Dear Brent,

A simple but powerful salutation to Nelson Mandela. Glad to see a post on him.

Thanks for the comments on my blog. It's wonderful to know people in different corners of the globe; an amazing possibility made real by the internet. Thanks for counting me as your first with India.

India is a large country fast on the progress lane, and it's also home to a huge number of English speaking population - something like a legacy of the British.

And, the city I live in -- Bangalore -- is also home to the one of the largest concentrations of computer engineers.

Regards, PRADEEP

Janet said...

So true!

RAJI MUTHUKRISHNAN said...

Such a pithy tribute to Nelson Mandela - saying it briefly and saying it all.

I really admire the way you write verse - both serious and light.

Came here via Mysore Blog Park. Am glad I did

Kat said...

Shows that the World doesn't listen to Voice-of-Youngsters? :-(