Another Love Poem…

 

 

tuileries chairs

Photograph (c) 2010 by Patti Chronert

 

Another Love Poem…

If you’d like to hear me read this poem, please click on the link below. Wait a few seconds for it to load. I hope you enjoy both listening and reading this love poem.

 

 Another Love Poem…

~ To my husband and partner of forty years ~

 

We walked along in the Tuileries
alone among the chestnut trees,

morning sky of crisp pale gold
so many paths we have strolled,

and still we wander, just us two,
my heart never very far from you.

We stop to sit and watch the birds
green park chairs, unspoken words,

plain sparrows chirp, so unadorned
no beauty lost, no beauty mourned.

Simple thoughts are often most true—
no man was ever loved more than you.

 

 

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Heart Stone by Mary Kendall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The meaning of sanglant…

vive_la_liberte_long_live_freedom_french_13_cm_x_13_cm_square_invitation_card-re2d5c72c48e1454e9b216dea9682b7a2_zk9yz_324

 

A story in the NY Times story last Sunday said, “France is spending nearly 1 millions euros a day on the heightened security, part of a renewed surge in European military spending as governments declare terrorism a permanent risk.”.

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One million euros a day to combat terrorism. What a high price for liberty! The words, “Liberté, Fraternité, Egalité” are known to most of us. The French fought long and hard for democracy, and still, the battle continues. Part of democracy is tolerating dissension, but dissension can come at great risk and price. The French (and other democratic countries) are committed to fighting terrorism at great financial cost. Sadly, this means also at a cost of human lives. Still, there is no other choice…freedom must be protected by all who believe in democratic rule.

 

The following tanka was written as a reflection on the real cost of defeating oppression. It is a brief poem by choice.

 

 

a wash of red

under café tables

in silence

we learn the meaning

of sanglant

 

 

 

lady-liberty

For your reference:

Article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/01/business/international/europe-training-financial-firepower-on-terrorism.html

Night Music (haiga)

 

night music haiga

 

This photo haiga was created by me as a response to a prompt: ZENITH. This is one day in NaHaiWriMo (National Haiku Writing Month) on Facebook during the month of February.

Brushing Your Hair

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Brushing Your Hair

In the last month you ask me a favor.
Will I brush your hair when you have passed?
You seem to want to greet whatever comes
looking your best. I give my promise.

Each day when I come home, I offer
to brush your hair, but you say no,
maintaining the independence
you have always shown.

Later, in hospice, I no longer ask.
I hold your hands, rubbing lotion in,
skin so fragile, like a butterfly wing.
It is time now to make the last ablutions.

I clean your face and brush your hair,
your sleeping eyes flicker
under paper-thin lids, pale blue veins
tracing their course across them.

I imagine your mother tenderly holding you,
stroking your cheek, watching you dream
in her arms—her newborn daughter
with milky breath.

Ninety-one years separate us, your two watchers.
One joyously bringing you into the world;
the other sitting silently in the dim-lit room,
keeping watch over you through the night.          

 

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The poem, “Brushing Your Hair” is from my chapbook, Erasing the Doubt (c) 2015, Finishing Line Press.