Confirmation

…may as well have been one of these
sparrows that flit underfoot between
the tables of the sidewalk café
or the fly on the lip of the teacup
or the ant now on the cake plate –
you think I exaggerate ?
hardly, dear heart, barely, I swear –
I can’t say when, but I see today
sitting peacefully here in Rouen
that I had already begin to drift off –
apart – away – from the palpitating heart
of things, a lone beleaguered shoot
of some neglected library philodendron
losing curled yellow leaves, snaking
parched and bedraggled in aimless pursuit
(no plant should trade the light for shade)
’til you tended me back, tenderly, gently
made me see that love knows no season…
although god in his mystery knows the reason
you chose me to love and restore –
all I see – here particularly – confirms
I am so much happier than I was before.

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As sung by Judy Garland

so 
     before you go
                   want you to know 
that……………………… what matters 
                      is that matter 
                                   doesn’t matter; 
what matters is the heart is where it’s at;
          that love alone 
                           can heal a heart that shatters;
no, no amount of stuff – just love alone 
                                                     I seldom bluff,
                   and this time 
                              I’m not talking through my hat –
it’s love alone  you can’t subtract 
               from happiness………………my dear 
                        …………….and that’s  a fact. 
               

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AFTERGLOW

The searing passions spent,
now face to face, he’d trace
my features with a finger
the other palm lightly on my hip
and at times he’d linger
tickling my lower lip –
sometimes we’d kiss; sometimes
we’d just stay like this – lovers,
in their castle, above the world,
beneath the covers.

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Airport [or, How it really happened]

Of course he stopped when he saw her,
dropped his lone duffle bag as she walked over,
and she used it to cradle her banjo-uke
in its thin gray case; she hugged him
around the middle and he pressed
her head against his heart to keep it
from bustin’ out of its bone prison
as they both cried and laughed
like folks do when wars are over
and then they smiled and smiled
while, all around, people slowed down
and sideways watched, drank it in as if
they were at some healing spa – then,
believe it or not, the sun ripped off
its grumpy frazzle-beard masque,
reverbed off the floor and nearly
blinded everone, so suddenly
had it appeared – and no one
could describe the rest anyway

& because she knew now
that it was real; she whispered
she’d come the night before
to be sure to be there
for his flight and that
she’d kept the room
and they could get to
it on foot and when he hesitated,
she laughed instinctively knowing
that would make him feel safe,
so they walked over and
she had the key and they
couldn’t speak in the elevator.

Then, while he stripped
to his flight-wrinkled undies,
she played and softly sang
The Tennessee Waltz
and he didn’t bat an eye
as he watched her sitting
on the edge of the bed
with her ankles crossed

until he took the uke
and put it on the dresser
and began to undress her –
shoes and socks first – then
he put both hands lightly
on her shoulders to signal
he wanted her to lie down
so he could woosh off her jeans
as she had written in one of those
poems that never knew whether
it wanted to be racy or comic

and he kissed her stomach
and drank in the scent he
recognized as the one
in the letters – and he lay
down beside her,
her last clothing flipped
onto the floor as he punctuated
their abandon with tender little kisses.

Wasn’t the room temperature
would make anybody quiver
but they both did, here and there
– half in disbelief, half in anticipation –
and eventually she pulled him on her
though he was reluctant
having never brought himself
to believe she had really wanted
nothing more in the cosmos
than for the full weight of him
to crush her bones

but she did.

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à mi-chemin

What was it – seven seconds? Today, seven time zones away, she reckons, wonders how much has been gained so far, in this windfall winning – in the wind, yes, in free fall he’d said, half a world away just yesterday, but she sees more some premier danseur spinning now – or an olympic diver from a plane soon to slice the waves and whistle up some dolphin song, for she has known all along just how strong this thing is, sees him gaining courage – straight through space – as once he fancied that he saw them both beneath a lime tree, smiling as on a Christmas card, grinning so that all the world might see just how fine & wonderful things might be.

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CARTOON UPDATE

I swear he brings out
the Menace in me –
supine, socks drooping,
that bracelet of flesh
before the trouser hem,
the glasses on, though
the eyes are closed –
he’s Hank Ketcham
with midriff bulge

It’s the mouth open
that does it though, and
I really would be tempted
to dig out the bag of marbles
I found in the park last year
and drop one or two in
just as he snores,
like the distaff Denis
that I (eternally) am

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Moonlit love nest?

I awoke at 2 am to a thunderous snore –
there she goes again, I know that’s what you’re thinkin’
but I was Eva Marie Saint beneath a nose on Rushmore
[any wonder I dream of Washington and Lincoln?]
In turn I’ve been told that I honk often like a goose
[as it happens, I like geese, so I don’t really mind]
but I don’t believe my wee nose could ever produce
a noise to compare with Close Encounters of that kind!
I love the man entirely [if such needs to be said]
there are times though, I swear, that it’s hard to share his bed.

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