A Week of Love Poems – Valentine’s Day!

love birds#5 (3)
The Kitchen Song

She loves him sweet and tender
She loves him with pies and cake
She loves him with buttery little biscuits
The kind she likes to bake.

She loves him good and hearty
She loves him with beef stew
She loves him with ribs and goulash
And rich bowls of thick burgoo.

She loves him hot and spicy
She loves him with red cayenne
She loves him with jalapeno peppers
And secret recipes from the Yucatan.

She loves him dark and steamy
She loves him with coffee and cream
She loves him with Earl Grey and Oolong
And toddies spiked with Jim Beam.

She loves him in so many ways
She loves him the best she can
She loves him sweet and good and hot,
Her sweet talkin’ everlovin’ man.

— This is an old poem written for Bob as a Valentine one year. Still one of my silliest and one of our favorites.

A Week of Love Poems – Day 5

Song of Songs / There I Will Abide

I
And there I will abide
Abide seems to be a word
filled with soft meaning
and deep intent
I will abide
belong, rest, take comfort, dwell,
I will abide
withstand, endure, await, sojourn
accepting without hesitation
I will abide

II
My love is my abode
His limbs pillars of fragrant cedar
To shield me in my rest
His arms are oaks of sinew and might
Silver is on his head
Burnished and gleaming
Sapphire his eyes
More beautiful than the morning sky
His heart of precious stones
More valuable than the kings stores
He calls my name
And I am safe
My love is my love
And there I will abide

A Week of Love Poems – Day 4

November Sunset

The Choice

Counting back to that first glance, seconds and minutes,
hours and years, the desire and candor of bodies,
when our days became charged with the pace of lives lived.
Years of longing renounce the yearning to another,
no longer young. The clamor of middle years
leaves satisfaction and knowledge in its place,
a quietness whose heft outweighs the struggles.
Wisdom is as wisdom does, patience is its own reward,
love never fails, never. And this is the choice,
made and kept, to choose you now and at each sunrise.
Until the day comes that my hand is not recognizable to you
And my laughter is silenced by your unknowing eyes.

A Week of Love Poems – Day 3

Tempus Fuget

Translating the ancient language of our long marriage-
Our vocabulary of years, memory and choices:
Love as verb
Cor ad cor loquitur…Heart speaks to heart
Love as noun
Amor vencet omnia…Love conquers all
But in the diagramming of that sentence is the lie-
Time, not love, is the conqueror
And our end is closer than our beginning.
Eheu fugaces labuntur anni
Alas the fleeting years slip by
In ictu oculi
In the blink of an eye….
Tempus fuget
time flies.

A Week of Love Poems – Day 2

Autumn on the lake

For All I Know

Time will not stand still-
autumn has deepened
across the Ozarks ridge

and you are not here.

You could be in Tuscany
for all I know,
flirting with the grandmothers
with your beautiful blue eyes
(those eyes)
and smiling at the children
playing in the piazza
as you drink espresso
and trade lies
with the young men.
I can see the warm Italian sun
against your silver mane,
so handsome and at ease
strolling up the cobblestone path
with golden sunflowers
and a good bottle of red.

And I-
I walk my cloistered walk
alone in our empty room.
I will trade our bed for the narrow cot
of a nun
and cast my longings into prayers
and rosaries.

But you are not in Italy.
I know
you are working long days
in the high lonesome desert of west Texas
where the autumn stars are out
as you lie in your own monks cot
calling home
to say good night.

A Week of Love Poems

A few love poems for the week of Valentines – I hope you don’t mind this little indulgence – smiles

love birds#5 (3)

Metaphor

Is it too trite
to write
that the river
is a
metaphor
for our love?
And to use the old saying that
you never step into the same river twice?
Because it is
Just
Like
That.

Driving through the dark Ozarks night,
following the hollows along the river,
a young couple in our headlights-
wet, walking hand in hand-
coming up from a midnight swim.
Suddenly, I am transported-
I am that girl-
shy, bold and holding your hand,
feeling your wet skin for the first time,
the rush of the river,
the rush of the new.
Then, I laugh, seeing myself
reflected in your laughing eyes
illuminated by the dashboard lights.
We drive towards home,
splashing in the river.

the color of stillness

Stillness,
that is the color I have chosen.
Stillness,
the heartbeat of the morning,
the breath of the evening.

The evening you and I walked the gravel path
to the shore of the once mighty river,
now moving in its ancient course
far under the placid stillness of the lake’s surface.
The evening you and I inhaled the breath of sweet grass
as it exhaled into the night’s beginning.

Stillness –
the early morning hours when you lay sleeping-
your breath, my heartbeat.
Dawn’s faint heartbeat of light
until the first birdsong-
the exhalation of daybreak’s stillness.

That is the color I have chosen
for you to paint the walls of our bathroom-
the color of stillness.

*** Well, yes, it would have been more romantic if it were the bedroom or any other room in the house! smiles – But it is the final stage of our long process of remodeling our bathroom (well, my bathroom :) )
I will post photos when complete – with towel racks and pictures on the walls. It is beautiful and I am so grateful to Pete Gleason (Parabalas Pete – wonderful musician and friend) and my husband for their hard work creating this beautiful room for us (me!).