If I’m the mast, you’re the sail –
I mean, the thing that drives us on –
so that the wind creates momentum
and the ocean is connection –
I thought the water was a barrier,
but you see opportunity,
and I have hidden from the wind,
but you have made it energy –
but then again, I’ve held you,
strengthened you, tied you
to all these things you love,
kept you from flying too far away
losing too much, creating
too much distance. This is the power
we have together, to make purpose
out of fear and chaos. To travel.
A twiglet for Misky – a first go at a poem inspired by Miskys prompting phrase. It’s all about inspiration .
Today’s challenge was to mix and match overly poetic and clunkingly mundane words.
To my husband
I see a little grey amidst your tresses,
(But still you take out the recycling),
And a few lines, now, on your alabaster brow,
(But you remember first to warm the teapot).
I have adorned you in your beauteous raiment –
(Your other shirt is waiting to be washed) –
Gazed deep into your lucent eyes –
(Did you book the car in for its service?).
Perchance I seem a little pensive off and on –
(I can’t remember where I left my keys )-
But I quaffed deeply from the phial of love:
(Thank you for coming all this way with me).
We may be older now, and less impassioned,
But we are easier in each other’s presence.
Marriage is not a hostile takeover
Or an equivalence relation,
It’s more like the development
Of a conurbation:
My CD village is surrounded
By your vinyl city;
My teetering book piles
Onto your tranquil shelves.
Health care and education?
We assume the lines of love
Are isoglossal, falter
Pick ourselves up, re-group, continue
The building process we have undertaken.