April is national poetry month, so i guess i will try. No need to say what this is about
nightly rituals
daily joy
taken away on a journey to a far away land so close to home
incredible comfort
remarkably relaxed
protection from all the worries this world can bring
constant feeling
never-ending
endless reminder of always being there
Sweet soft smell
slight little crinkle
sensational ride beyond the wildest of imaginations
growing older
blurring of age
growing up to the sweet child so meant to be
bunny warmth
bunny snuggle
loving snuggly care no medicine can ever provide
Broken body
mended heart
Delightfully sleeping peacefully night by night
Greetings. I apologize for my absence, not that you were overly disappointed I'm sure, :) but my computer has been on the blink and I just got it back on line, for the moment at least. I loved your poem, and it really made me smile. I have endeavored to keep your words in mind this week in light of endless computer issues and what not, but reading your poem made the week of waiting worth while. Well, I happen to be plum tuckered out from my super LOOOOOOOONG comment I just left over at Adrian's blog, so I'll sign off and leave you in peace. Thanks again for everything, and have a pleasant weekend. It's raining by the way, a nice warm spring rain that reminds me of my childhood in the mountains, the smell of pine and wet earth mingling with that of manure and growing alphalpha. Oh the days when the spring rains came and left their mark upon the earth, the lightning flashing and landing on our hill, blowing up at least one electrical appliance with each thunderstorm. Once it was the modem, once the answering machine, another time the microwave or the TV. Yet I still was dumb enough to stand out in the thunder and lightning, not caring if I got fried to a crisp so long as I could let the rain pour on my head and down my back, and hear the thunder's shattering roar from just over my head, close enough that I could feel it in my chest like the mallet at my father's forge. I love the rain and the thunder, and have nothing but good things to say about it. So now I will definitely get out of your hair. Om santhi.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you liked my poem!
ReplyDeleteI kind of miss the smell of spring myself. Around tokyo all you get is the smell of industry with the rain.