Amore,
ardor shine,
adore joint bliss!
Wordy 30 poem: six 5 letter words.
poem- lovey Wordy 30 September 10, 2022
poem- Daddy’s sweater December 17, 2021
I am zipped up in Daddy’s green sweater.
Mom knitted, purled, cabled together
some semblance of love.
He wore it with joy almost every day,
telling all admirers how it was made with love.
It’s wrapped around me,
but it’s not his firm arms,
not his smell (which wasn’t peppermint
or aftershave, but just him),
not his whisper in my ears,
Love you so much.
How can another year have past
without him? How can a sweater
be both so full
and so bereft of him?
poem- this is love November 13, 2020
The scrape of the snow shovel begins
just as my alarm rings.
The snow is heavy and ankle deep.
You should take my vehicle today, he says.
The studded tires stick to the road.
This is the safer route.
Be careful!
He doesn’t say I love you,
but I know it
anyway.
poem- blind November 3, 2020
She falls for
kindness,
talent,
good humour,
joy.
Is so surprised when
people point out skin,
when he wonders if she can handle
The Problem.
She squints to scrutinize for trouble,
but can’t see past the laughter
in his eyes,
the love in hers.
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I suppose that’s privilege, too, isn’t it? The ‘not noticing colour’ has a positive connotation, but a negative one as well. What are your thoughts?
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Ignore any WordPress ads below. Unless they’re for Fluevog shoes, they’re not endorsed by me.
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poem- thirsty November 4, 2019
It’s all just excuses,
you’d say.
Sure. Blame me like always.
Like her feelings are an attack
somehow.
Maybe there’s something
you could do,
to acknowledge hurt and pain,
instead of defenses,
show adoration again.
poem- That Year October 30, 2019
She loves you
Diamonds in the air
Twinkling in
Street lights’ silence.
Just a snow shovel’s scraping
In the distance.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Leaf buds, bursting hope.
Unfolding pastel visions
Relief.
She loves you
Summer green
Heat hovers in the air
Living breathing furnace.
And you know that can’t be bad.
Golden light illuminates scarlet visions.
I will never say you’re beautiful
I’ll be your friend forever.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
poem-living September 20, 2019
You drive away after a visit.
“He got his licence back!”
“That’s great for 101!”
“No! He’s 105 now!”
“and blind!”
Oh, dad.
Thanks for stopping by
to make me laugh
in dreams.
poem- didn’t say July 9, 2019
He didn’t say it.
Not on the day
or the day after, when he used to remember.
No more embers. glowing.
Not hanging on the threads anymore, I just realized.
How strange when forever
truly dies.
poem-hearts February 14, 2019
It’s not the chocolates,
flowers,
romantic dinners,
sexy lingerie.
It’s just the words
and actions.
Fixing the brakes,
warming the car,
clearing off snow
before I head to work.
That’s romance.
That’s love.
poem-when May 29, 2018
(An early Father’s Day poem)
.
When I was little
your face was behind a camera
capturing moments of my small life,
fearlessly climbing the steps on the tallest slide,
thigh high stretches for a toddler,
far above your head,
not afraid;
no pain had touched me.
Your greatest gift was security
to grow up confident in your love.
No one else ever loved me so well
or with such shameless devotion.
Oh, how great my loss.
When I miss you,
as I often do,
my memories are lit with
gratitude,
gratitude,
gratitude.
Shawn L. Bird 