I am
caught
between breath,
hovering within a moment,
alive in every cell,
dying a small death
until I’m inhaling
you
me
infinity.
poem-lying September 21, 2014
I wake
to feel you lying
stretched along
the length of me.
I reach out my hand
and find not flesh
but fur.
You have been replaced
by canine devotion.
.
.
.
.
This is an interesting example of ‘living poetry.’ People ask how I can come up with a poem every day, and I say I see them everywhere. This morning, completely dazed with sleep, this happened, I muzzily composed this poem as I reflected on the surprise, and then fell back to sleep. When I finally got up, there it was, ready to share.
poem-considerations September 20, 2014
Between you and me,
there is respect,
and respect has room
for secrets.
But let there be
no lies
between you and me,
for what lies
between us
is going to be
growing
timelessly.
.
.
.
Another #Outlander poem.
Re: ch 15
(I confess, I missed this speech in ep 107. I trust it will show up eventually).
poem- stitches September 15, 2014
Yarn
strung along
twisting, wrapped,
dropped, turned,
knit, purl
Entanglement
is what brings
comfort.
poem- heard August 29, 2014
Her words
weren’t heard
His dreams
were empty screams
Her wishes
were lost in riches
His sight
was bathed in light
Her trials
left her reviled
His loneliness
was his holiness
Their relationship
let sensations slip
They tightly gripped
their well-worn scripts.
poem-closer August 25, 2014
Some days
I can’t get close enough
to you.
I want to wrap
your skin around me
and hear our hearts
beat, blood bound,
against each other.
poem- love is August 23, 2014
You are riding 140 km
on your bicycle this morning.
Upon your return
I have promised to have
fresh baked oatmeal raisin cookies
waiting for you.
.
.
How’s this for timing? Hubby comes up the stairs, stumbling a bit after pedalling 142.5 km, just as I pulled the first cookie sheet out of the oven. He was a happy man.
poem-missing August 7, 2014
Three thirty-three in the morning
I awaken, drenched in sweat.
I turn on the fan,
waiting for sleep to return
wishing that you were beside me.
Shawn L. Bird 