When you choose what brings you joy
When you choose who gives you laughter
When you choose what makes you sing
When you choose who really matters
Then each moment and each thing
you do, makes happiness deploy.
poem-listening August 27, 2015
Hush.
The evening chorus:
Frogs throat singing
with susurrating trees
Summer serenade.
poem-tracing August 26, 2015
I trace the lean lines of hardened calves,
lingering within the valleys of those rocky quads,
loosening the tension with gentle pressure against
each muscle bulwark of firing fuel..
After another 100k you’re salty sweet and taut.
I push knuckles deep into the tight pockets
of your lower back and listen for your groan,
prepare you for another ride.
.
.
.
My husband is a long distance cyclist who rides about 500 km each week for fun. He is extraordinarily fit. 🙂 (If I had to ride 500 km a week, I’d call it torture, but that’s just me).
poem-one month August 25, 2015
It has been
one
month
since you slipped gently from this life.
How strange
not to have kissed your cheek
for 31 days.
I still murmur that I love you
and follow your instructions
and can’t believe
you’re gone.
poem-vampire
I hadn’t noticed before, but you’re a vampire.
You charm people, but when they get close to you
you suck the life out of them.
A succubus eating through relationships,
and now you’re clinging to that child
as a tool to make that old man stay
while you drain him, too.
I’m glad some of them got away.
poem- touched August 24, 2015
One finger tracing
One hand resting
Two hands kneading
Two arms embracing
Four lips brushing
I’m touched
poem-still August 23, 2015
You still surprise me,
After millions of words.
The enthusiasm of your greeting,
the warmth of your embrace,
still makes me thankful every day
you came into my life.
poem-down August 22, 2015
I’m upside down
and it makes me dizzy
how so many years later
you can still do this to me.
I’m upside down
inside out and backwards
breathing like I’ve run a marathon
like you’ve decrypted my password.
I’m upside down
like I’m on a circus trapeze
another day with you, our love
is full of moments like these.
poem- haunted August 21, 2015
I have seen her haunted eyes.
You might have believed you’d fooled the world,
but her sad brown eyes told the story long before
your confession.
poem-bangles August 20, 2015
Three brass bangles
Two copper bangles
Artisan wrought
a mature gift to a teenaged babysitter
who couldn’t quite pull them off,
but they stayed in the jewelry box a fond memory
of adorable little boys, a polished professional couple, and a spotless, earthy home.
Enter small daughter to whom the jewelry box
was full of magic, and bangles were magic rings set for a journey.
Journey they did!
What mystical adventure were the copper bangles on for a decade or two?
Four houses later they re-appear in my jewelry box.
If only they could talk.
Shawn L. Bird 