Tags
becoming, breath, connection, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, nature, passion, postmark, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wisdom, woman

sixty-five acres
on the edge of forever
east of the river
that runs to the sea
taking the last
of my reason held over
and eighteen more candles
left burning for me
when the first to let go
of unspoken promise
a cedar box laden
with white china dreams –
picture frames filled
with the illusion of magic
teacups could never
hold everything
twenty-one pears
and two dozen peaches
an orchard too small
for the plans I allowed
when nothing could stop me
the pantry was empty
crystal blue soldiers
(what’s stopping me now)
stayed up the night
til the windows were weeping
for someone (one more)
I was meaning to count
had I not been alone
when the record was started
for a lifetime (a moment)
of living too long
I cried and I cursed
begged for another –
and banged every door
on my way to the porch
made myself sick
with things I’d forgotten
in a place filled with ghosts
I can’t put away
lace to the lids
my grandmother’s curtains
ruined her linens
one night in the barn
wrapped in a tablecloth
bed facing heaven –
shared every secret
come true with the dark
where is the ribbon
you loosed from my hair
the color of twilight
and yesterday’s truth
was stored in my closet
in an old cigar box
with a penny I found
while looking for you
one step
and backwards
watch for the table –
eyes search the shadows
for somebody home
swirling and twirling
east toward the river
were not for the peaches
I’d already be gone
A wonderful poem, but a certain sadness embraces…sometimes as life changes we have to compromise even with our hearts and take control and embrace what is close, certainly in a new way but at least its a happiness that stays. Love is always near in many different shapes and sizes making appearance where you would never look, yet when you find it, when you really find it, its embrace slays your heart and leaves you feeling so wholesome…and the nights are made more comfortable by this love that always stays with you, even through the darkness of night and the brightness of day..becoming a lasting treasure for you. Wonderful poem as you always seem to write them better than before…but wanted to make you smile!
And you always do, Wendell. Within every poet, there are a multitude of stories – those they live, those they dream, those they hear, and those they write. Love always finds a willing pen. Thank you, my dear. ~ Love always, Bobbie
A lot of the thoughts in the first part of this sound like me when I was 17. Happy kid that I was!
I loved the poem, Bobbie. You are the spirit of the written word, the sprite that lives between the unwritten pages, sharing heart and soul with the those fortunate enough to find what you write.
…. always,
Paul
Thank you, Paul. Pieces of this were remnants of a dream…..and once I started writing, the story took over. 🙂 Thank you. ~ Love, Me
achingly beautiful story told with brilliant writing and open bold heart, Love you so much, Linda
Thank you, my beautiful friend. Your grace is such a blessing to me. You see the world through eyes the same as mine. Love you. ~ Bobbie
Just the sounds of these lines are enough, even though I haven’t been able to break through the mystery. Besides, as a reader one has to mirror and rewrite in one’s head.
What a pleasure to read your work.
Jo, you are so very right. The reader will always find himself in words. What one finds, another will miss. What one keeps, another will let go. Always, we find that which is meant for us. I’ve personally read things and thought, ‘I must not be ready for this lesson’……. Your kindness shines bright to my face, Jo. Thank you. ~ Love, Bobbie