Come Saturday morning

Some lovely women I know are off for a weekend trip. I am thinking of them right now, and hoping they are seeing interesting things and having a lovely and restful time. A couple of whitters from yesterday evening and night.

Standing out so
as though in the middle of some
broad expanse of meadow
where a courtly dance is done
the one
out of step and out of time
is it confusion or something else
because nothing is to be seen
between any lines

Clear as eyes after tears have been shed
it is in where I am
anyone can see where I’m going
and something of my inner life
there is an open door to come
climb toward the light with me
honor yourselves because in that
you do me honor
a simple clean thing

Perhaps there is an absence
of some dark nights
those lonely searching times
the growth that has always demanded
the price of some pain
through which the dancers learn the cadence
of life’s movement
love’s careful rhythm
no tarantella of gypsy fantasy

I bid my companions to let me rest
for a time while my heart quiets
my soul and I would confer
see how to prepare for what may come
wipe the tracks of soil away
come of once dancing too close
forgetting the organic flow
much time has passed since I last cared
to attempt a mindless whirl

~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes stay steady
not for a second do they leave
the object of your attention
your face grave and beautiful
in its reflection of your devotion

Devotion so deeply given
that even now I sense you
oh Folláin I would try in vain
to tell how in those times
the precious days we find
your solemn giving
fills my heart with reverence

Your eyes so intently telling me
what no one has words for
your mouth taut with energy
with its tight electric beckoning
until I have no choice
no ability to resist
and I interrupt your attentions
with a tender kiss

We’ll Saturday spend till the end of the day and travel for miles with our Saturday smiles. ~~~~ Ahhh… Sweet interuptions… *S*

Woman of many hats..

September 13, 2003

Mr. parallelogram

A tender kiss… How I usually dare to dream of them… Much respect.

Singing Nun

How I wish such beautiful whitters would be written for me….but alas, my love is of the practical world.

So lovely, sweet poet. Thanks for returning the fangs. Full moon last night, that kept me busy ;)Hugs

LiteBrite

Zenith

Make note to self not to read MEs whitters at 3am.. They are always so beautiful if not a little melancholy.. hard to take at a lonely 3am….

I relate to the first poem perhaps because of my meeting with my cousin the other day. Now perhaps there are two who dance slightly out of step. 😉 Hugs,

Mangocitrus

I am always wanting to one day sit down and explicate your entire diary…I know without even beginning I will find a wonderfully complicated old soul who still ‘remembers’ having experienced the joy of divine love and feels always a wandering need to experience it again…it is expressed here nearly daily and why you are so much loved by those (including myself) who read you. love L

CanadianJade

Beautiful!

Ah, you quite take my breath away – especially the second poem. How do you do this…this magic with words…it astonishes me…this magic you have at your fingertips! Love,

What interesting images to use for the first one : ) And of course, can’t miss that lovin’ feelin’ in the second one! Nice stuff. Hugs and Smiles : )

Armiel

I can’t think of any words for your whitters that I haven’t already said! So you are stills stuck with lovely, wonderful, talented, etc, etc. ***hugs***