Saturday, February 25, 2012

Poem for my Beloved, February 14, 2012


Even tho'
I'm really only
all tired out and sad,

And looking for
A quieter cover to reboot
Or to Celebrate our Families, our Endurance

And even tho'
I still remember
you could drink me
under the table
"Without even tryin,"
and not remember
when I'm there ---

In essence
I belong
to your Place

In some kinda 'nether world

Our Soul
Rests there
And gets too testy, when not there

And compares every tasty pleasure
To being there

It's always your hand, your space,
your seed, your Place ~~

"Fresh mushrooms in butter," you'd say,
"Breakfast of Champs!"

That slice of creek and grin of beach
Connecting all your Place
to the Sea
Like a handle on the silver platter holding tight my heart

Squirrels hungry gnawing
through pine boughs

Redwood burls birthing at the gate

Leaping, clear-eyed, ever watching
Silver fox cub
peeking in your window

Ol' granpa racoon
scolding us again

And you! gift-wrapped
by the Zephyr Star
decked out in swirls of Meta Physic Fancy

Sow bugs still guard the kitchen stair

Neon green tree frogs
Still keep our plumbing

Linda's Hearth note: this poem comes with different line lengths and tabs, but I don't know how to display that in my blog presets yet/

Will rewrite when I can display it better.

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