holding a poem
in my mouth
i fold the laundry(my first attempt at a lune)
the lizard with no tail
tells his tale
without a word
he has met the cat
(an old favorite)
yes
time
is short
and
between
is so long
I wait
in the quiet
remembering
the
song
we want.
we yearn.
we long
to burn.
and yet
we fear
the fire.
to burn.
and yet
we fear
the fire.
5 comments:
I am smiling at that first one.
I will continue to smile while I am folding my own laundry this afternoon
David
You must know something of how that feels, I would think - holding the words and ideas gently, but firmly lest they escape! Thank you for stopping in.
You are such a fine lady poet...I matched your ideas and now I am dancing with you. :D I didn't ask permission, daring you to slap my face. It would be worth it!
Doing The Wash
Right in the middle
of folding my worn out wash,
my ragged old shorts,
I thought of your lines
and started this new poem,
you napping nearby.
It's about a cat
with her satisfied Cheshire
grin and her supple
tail twitching about,
or it's about time passing
and about the flame
between us, warming
the whole world and this longing
we might choose to hide.
Christopher, you are in fine form today!!! I don't think you missed anything at all. No slap in the face this time. I'll just toss a towel over and you can help. ;o)
Jonnia, the final poem has you dozing instead of napping. :)
And at first I tried to have the lizard's tail in it instead of the cat's tail but it was going to take too much explaining. So I missed the lizard and that left only the cat. :(
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