And so it is that Love
threw at my feet her glove,
a long white one, perhaps,
but nonetheless a glove.
I took it up because
I knew the rules, and Love
looked me right in the eyes
and speared me with her words:
“It’s easy to fall in love
with spring, but can you care
for everything—the dross,
the dreck, the scum, the muck,
the loss, the wreck, the grime,
the dust? And can you find them
in you, too? And can
you fall in love with you?
Beautiful Rosemerry. From your Bud working toward blossoming. XO
You’re speaking my language, Ann!!!
I love the rhythm of this poem – and the questions Love pose that cause me to ponder.
thank you, LuAnne … I was having fun playing with trimeter … and making it so the rhymes toward the end were done on the fourth beat, so they worked against each other. I don’t know, just play! Thanks for the nice note!!
I like this very much! I like how you think dear Rosemerry! 🙂
I like how you “poem!” 🙂
Love and Namaste my friend
I like how you make poem a verb!! And man, Love really did call me to task. AGAIN!!!