Inarticulate

INARTICULATE

I never knew how futile words can be
That for so long had been my facile tools
To paint the quietness of shadowed pools
Or limn the sweeping vastness of the sea
Upon a printed page. In fatuous pride
I captured all that came within my ken--
The glories and the vanities of men--
In aptly polished phrase. Until I tried
To tell you all that you have meant to me
I never knew how futile words can be.



The author of this piece, Mary Pavey, was born in 1905. She taught elementary school, married a farmer, raised twelve children, and wrote poetry. Mary's unpublished work has been read and loved by her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren for over 60 years. We dearly love Mary’s vibrant and generous heart, and her spirit is fully alive in her poems.