Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Tuesday Poem - Late

I've been a heavyweight lately. . . Time for a little lightness.
Here's an old love poem/a poem for love


She leans across the piano keys
switches the standard lamp
off; bare breast pale in the square
shade of a sleeping mountain.

He, too, is sleeping
a simple twist of coconut hair
captured in the copper lining
of her eye.

Outside, rain.

Inside, a lancewood-coloured carpet,
a pair of abandoned leather shoelaces
ancient as eels, record sleeves
clutching their sides with laughter.


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  1. How very beautiful! The beginning was about something so ordinary, I got right into it. It was like taking a breath.

  2. Love can be like that, can't it Annell? Ordinary, extraordinary... and yes, like taking a breath. Love of life and work can be like this, too. Ah, so many passions... Thank you - L, C

  3. "... record sleeves
    clutching their sides with laughter."

    Such a delightful poem.

  4. Claire, I'm loving the shapes, (the breast, the square mountain ... ) the colours - lancewood and copper ...
    lots here that is delicious and unexpected. What a rich feast ion a small plate. px

  5. Thanks, Kass - clutching our sides with laughter is something to cherish!

    PamelaMM, I love the relationships you've touched on.. and the (was it one?) misspelling of 'on' a small plate...

    ion |ˈīən; ˈīˌän|
    an atom or molecule with a net electric charge due to the loss or gain of one or more electrons.

    Lovely, metallic, tingly stuff!

    L, C xx