Onyx eyes, black beads,
glisten with wishes,
please take the gift,
toss gently, I’ll retrieve.
It’s only time between us;
you are almost all I’ve known of love,
though you may grieve
for what has been before;
I am now, and while I’m still small,
you’re all I want and need.
With time between us,
your love for me will grow.
If the broken pieces
didn’t blind him,
cripple him,
impale him,
perhaps he’d be free
to see her pain.
And seeing, to embrace it,
tame it, and more–
for her to show him
what she knows,
that slivers can be pulled,
that slats can be hammered,
that broken pieces can grow into crutches,
that the cracks of fractures
can be patched into a quilt
for a bed of nails.
Oh, he is broken, but
Comfort is where you find it.
It’s new again.
Baby love.
Cuteness overload.
I miss old, familiar love,
but this sweet face is balm
to a broken heart.
.
.
Miniature poodle Mrang Such Outlandish Style (Kiltti) 13 weeks old.
It is lonely
Seeing ghosts of wagging tails
Dancing feet and twinkling eyes.
To remember joy made physical
Only because of my existence.
It is lonely
To catch the movements
From the corners of my eyes
Of furry bodies no longer present.
Grief is a hard, hard, hard burden.
But you,
Are lighter without the responsibility
Lighter with the freedom
Lighter from the consequences.
Lighter with the isolation
That is not loneliness to you.
But oh,
It is to me,
And my heavy heart struggles
With this burden of grief.
Knowing you. Knowing me.
Knowing the sacrifice you make
To bring some relief from grief,
To bring me a piece of joy again,
Wagging on the tip
of a tiny tail.
2016/04/08
Love is not love
if it alters when alteration finds
It is an ever fixed mark, said Shakespeare.
Constancy is a quality of mind
that removes sparks of fear.
Love is love
when the word can be relied
upon and expressions of affection
will be supplied, for
faithfulness in word and deed
is the essence of true love’s need.
Baby
you’re far away.
Maybe
you’ll come home with me.
Maybe
it will be.
Baby
I just wanna say
if someday you’re here with me
You’ll be my only baby
and I’ll love you
unconditionally.
.
.
(There might be a poodle puppy in my near future. He needed a poem. Maybe his poem should have been “One of these things is not like the others” because like me, he stands out in the group! Guess which one?) 😉
Long drive
side by side
time to ask the big questions
muse on what was and what will be.
Long drive
side by side
time to hear the answers
pull you and me back into we.
Face to face,
hands in hands,
She’s searching your eyes
for signs adoration,
for joy,
for love
for appreciation.
She is straining her ears to hear you say,
I love you.
You are beautiful.
You make me happy.
I’m so glad you’re mine.
And you say,
Are those black hairs coming out of your nose?
Is that because you’re old?
Hey, he says.
Hey, she says. You’re on speaker. What’s up?
Where are you?
Thirty minutes from home. Is everything okay?
Yeah. I was just missing you and wondering
when you’d be home.
Soon.
All right. See you…soon. I’m on speaker?
Yup.
Oh. Bye, then.
.
.
.
A little found poem, overheard.
Shawn L. Bird 