She was

She was

Indian brown tanned in summer; a slave to

clothes pins and snapping sheets on the line;

           the gardener of climbing honeysuckle and jasmine;

burnt hotdogs on the grill, the way I liked them.

 

But mostly, she was his.

 

She was

‘Thumbelina’ at bedtime, ruler of the metronome every.single.day,

tiny-waisted swirling skirts, red lips and . . . Chanel #5.

 

But first of all, she was his.

 

She probably never knew it was her hands that dazzled me.

I’d sketch them in my sleep and dream of them holding mine.  And those hands

were the most elegant and tended,

capable of such things . . .

 

And yes, they also belonged to him.  To adorn with glittering expressions

of stars he would pull down from the night sky, if you please.

 

And she was

the giver of spoons for mud pies;  tea with milk

in tiny teacups; eggnog with tonsillitis and keeper of glorious

treasures in her jewelry box.

 

But always she was his.  My dad’s.  She hung the moon for him once,

I think.  And there it ever remains.  Waxing.

Waning throughout years I can only remember on nights the stars are diminished

by moonshadows cast through my open shutters.

 

Like tonight.

 

And he bides time quietly now.  I know.

for she

just

           was.

Reviews

[Forest Green]

This was true divinity...chocolate fudge with cold, cold milk. Had to get a run for the hill at the beginning, but then it was smooth sailing.

Picture-perfection in lyrics and lines and such a pleasant and wonderful clothesline out front.

Beautiful..! A favorite...

[Zeek4]

My mother used Chanel #5. What a touching piece. I loved it. "But always she was his." What a lucky man he was. Makes me think what a lucky man I am too.

[Chris]

...breathes again...

[Tate Morgan]

One of your best and touching as well

[......]

Such amazing, lovely write.

[emmajoy]

Beautiful, memorable, worthy of silver tears and smiles at the corners of a trembling mouth. You write with touching clarity, create mini pictures of amazing sweetness, and there she was gone but ever there - waiting. 'And he bides time quietly now. I know. for she just .. was.'

[*** Hey Jude***]

This touched the depths of me from the first word! Such beautiful memories shared in such a heartfelt way. This work of art that has brings warmth to the heart. She a beautiful woman, just as her daughter is! ~ xo

[Wondering Mind]

Such elegance in description, and what beautiful, cherished memories you have to sweeten your heart of her...Lovely!

[Bare trees]

A beautiful poem of treasured memories and observations. The touches of romance intertwine to make a great piece of poetry.

[Ed Hart]

all that being true, as you know best of all, he was hers...how wonderful for you to have know this, and thank you for sharing this most beautiful picture