It is after valentine season so, a love poem seemed about right. I have written really only one other in my history as a writer. I have either been too busy being intoxicated by the experience of being in love or else jaded by the difficulty of the struggle to stay connected to another person to really do much in the way of love verses.
Then last year sometime, A's brother Miq was kind enough and brave enough to share some of the love poetry he had written for Penny (of which there were copious reams) and I got inspired. I think my hangups lately have been more technical. I'm scared to write about love because just like painting autumn trees or flowers, it is so easy to do it badly. Cliches are rife and thin, plastic versions seem all to likely to be what would come pouring out of my keyboard.
But, like I said, it is valentine season and a girl has to try, doesn't she? I'd hate to have never really tried. Here's to you A and to married love.
Then last year sometime, A's brother Miq was kind enough and brave enough to share some of the love poetry he had written for Penny (of which there were copious reams) and I got inspired. I think my hangups lately have been more technical. I'm scared to write about love because just like painting autumn trees or flowers, it is so easy to do it badly. Cliches are rife and thin, plastic versions seem all to likely to be what would come pouring out of my keyboard.
But, like I said, it is valentine season and a girl has to try, doesn't she? I'd hate to have never really tried. Here's to you A and to married love.
A CircleI remember driving in staggering circles around the black rim of TahitiSo bone-tired after our wedding that we could hardly see the road ahead.We held hands, slouching into each other’s bodies over the wee stick shiftStaying awake by tracing circles on each other’s palms and thinking aloudI was your sidekick Bonny and you were my knight with the shining desktop.We were skirting the rim of our future, dipping our toes into life together.Now we’re several revolutions into marriage, all knee-deep in shared historyAnd I can’t remember the last time I kinked my mid-section over the consoleJust to feel the warmth of your shoulder, my fingers tangled in your hair.But last night, grinning in the dark, I traced a warm circle in your sleepy palmThe baby was standing up in bed between us using your ear-lobes for handlesSince it was 3 AM, we were so bone-tired we could hardly see the road aheadThe forgotten desktop glowed down the hall and I was too tired to think aloud.This circle on your palm is my love note to you, a little whirling symbol of hope:And I am here, keeping myself awake, circling the rim of our future in my mind.
You can find more Poetry Friday participants at Rasco From RIF today.
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