Here is a fun little love-poem, in the spirit of Valentine's day. I'm sorry I didn't have the heart to write a new one. Maybe one will come to me, yet.
One day
you fall into
at the end of your journey
not a motel bed, me--
stale and generic,
with a stiff polyester bedspread
and magic fingers if you insert a quarter
I would be
an apple-pie bed, dry and warm
sheets fresh off the line,
quilt plump and waiting
smelling of no other
but you
Rachel Westfall
December 25, 2008
5 comments:
Ahhh... so nice. This was verbally vivid loveliness personified! Soft & warm like the way one imagines a bed of roses would be.
Happy Valentine's Day, Rachel.
One Love.
Lin
Thank you Rachel. You gave me somewhere to go.
I'm Ready To Go
What I shall carry
with me this dew bright passage
is the truth of you
all life long as we
roll and slide and lift right up
the covers, the heat
of us one meshed heat.
All love's air belongs to us.
So do all love's dreams.
Somehow this doesn't fit:
me--
stale and generic,
with a stiff polyester bedspread
and magic fingers if you insert a quarter.
That's not you.
You are the bright, eerie light of the dancing aurora, star-like glint on new snow.
You:
an apple-pie bed, dry and warm
sheets fresh off the line,
quilt plump and waiting
smelling of no other
but you.
Ah, yes. (Can you hear "The Homecoming" playing in the background?)
Nothing wrong with drawing one up from memory. Especially when, as with this one, it's sweet and unique. The idea of an "apple-pie bed" is wonderful.
Yes, apple pie bed....perfect!
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