For decades, Helen Thomas asked
Questions that made Presidents wince.
In the White House Press Corps she basked
In what was once groundwork for gents.
Each Prez press brief, she'd start and end.
Each Prez at the mercy of her
Belief that she was no Prez friend.
A fiesty force, for sure, for sure.
Grandmotherly with nerves of steel,
Term by term, she gained her own fame.
Across from the nameless Prez seal,
She had her own chair with her name.
As Presidents did come and go,
Helen Thomas in the front row.
Ima Ryma's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Helen Thomas by Ima Ryma )
- The Poem, Neil Kennett
- Arrival of Fall, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- I Want You Woman, Luva Boy
- Almost A White Horse, mary douglas
- The Tall Ride, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- Paces, Neil Kennett
- ህድደን ዎርልድስ - Hidden Worlds, Is It Poetry
- The blind man., richard harris
- Unbearably, Lilly Emery
- Across the courtyard, Jorge Rolon