I Am Asked,

How or why did you come to write poetry?

I am one of seven, four girls, three boys, raised in three small rooms In Pennsylvania farm country. Mom pretty much raised us without help. I hardly remember my father. Mom walked seven miles to work in a restaurant, seven days a week. She carried home everything we had. There was no car. As kids, we walked to town, often the whole seven miles, to meet her and help carry things home.

The rent was very low and the landlord was paid by us picking strawberries for him to sell. The strawberries were wonderful. He was a kind man. After the crates of berries were loaded on his truck, he would take us to the ice cream store and buy ice cream for us all. With the work done and ice cream cones in hand, we were very happy.

I did not take school courses in writing or poetry. I read everything I could get my hands on, but never poetry.

I married in High school, bore eight children. When the youngest passed at twenty, I traveled to Arizona alone, divorced, started a new life; married and lost a good man.

Then I found the love of my life via the internet. He is a tool of the Lord, who brought the two of us into knowing his servant, Marilyn Poscic, a psychic. She told me,

Glenna, you are supposed to be writing poetry, stories, drawing and painting.

I had never done any of these before, never thought about it … A week later I took my first poem to my sweetheart Wes …

I love poetry, I’m a writer; I thought, Wes, this poem is
technically correct in every way, then the emotion in the
words made me tear up. This is her gift to others.

I have been writing ever since. It is humbling to be so blessed, late in this life.

It gives me great happiness to help others with these gifts. May I help you with a personalized poem gift?

— Glenna Covino