she combs her hair, the moon loose
in slips of pale light.
“Under Mimosa,” Mainichi Daily News,
I began writing little poems as a small child about eight years old. What I wrote was simple rhyme. As I gained experience and wonderment about natural and spiritual realities, my poems and writings grew fuller, deeper. Yet I would have to say what came to me frequently as vivid visions was often small, the tiny hearts of tiny things. William Blake’s vision of seeing the world in a grain of sand is an apt comparison. When I open myself to them, visions come to me whether I am fully awake or drifting far away in spirit. So I present myself here in the contemplative ramblings of a woman who is a
Although I have quite a few pieces on this website, all of my prose work for the most part, and many poems, I have many more to enter. I am still in the process of organizing my work which falls into many categories and cannot easily be arranged with logic. Check back when you can for new pieces.
I was born Theresa Kathleen Andre in a hospital in New Roads, LA—Point Coupee Parish. My parents, Roy and Emily, were living with my father’s parents at that time. My father’s relatives were proud that they were Cajuns and that my great great-grandfather was the first citizen of the parish to volunteer for the Confederate Army. One family member has the ring which he carved from one of his buttons while in a Yankee prison! My mother’s father was a barrel maker, like his father, and left school in the second grade. He taught himself and loved playing the violin and writing stories. My maternal grandmother was a teacher, her mother, a midwife who nursed local folk during the yellow fever epidemic of that time. Maw Maw remembered her mother stripping down in the yard, bathing, and boiling her clothes there so she wouldn’t bring the dread fever into her home.
I grew up in a little town in West Baton Rouge Parish,
Like my grandfather before me, I’ve written poems and stories since about the age of 8 when I had my first little poem published in a missionary magazine.
I’m married to G. Washington Eames, Jr, former president of the NAACP since 1977—and like my old Confederate ancestors, I’m just as proud of breaking the color barrier as they were proud to enforce it!
I think the internet has changed publishing—there’s still a place for hard copy (books and magazines), but other options may reach more readers more easily (I cite Obama as a case in point!)