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.

 

 

1-IMG_1155

Heart Stone by Mary Kendall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Who Am I?

32-2015-04-05 15.23.45

Who Am I?

I am just a wisp,
a vision caught
at the edge of your eye.

I am just a thought,
a touch on the arm
you almost don’t feel.

I am just a memory
pulled back down to earth.

I am just an image
of what could be
but is not.

.

To hear me reading this poem, simply click on the link below. Wait a few seconds for it to begin.

IMG_0613

This poem originally appeared in The Aroostook Review, May 2006

.

Note: the rainbow picture is my own, but the beautiful purple flower is by Yolanda Litton, one of my favorite photographers.

 

 

 

Forget Me Not…

Forget-Me-Not by SarahharaS1 (c)2013

                                       Forget-Me-Not by SarahharaS1 (c) 2013

~

Don’t Forget Me When I’m Gone

~~

Don’t forget me when I’m gone.
I’ll be there thinking about you.

Don’t forget me in my silence.
I’ll bring you back a poem. 

Don’t forget me when you’re sad.
I’ll be ready to understand your tears.

Don’t forget me when life is good.
I’ll be happy to laugh along with you. 

Don’t forget me if the glass breaks.
I’ll be there to sweep up the shards. 

Don’t forget me when you doubt.
I’ll listen to your words spill out.

Don’t forget me in the dark.
I’ll bring you a small violet star.

Don’t forget me when I leave.
I’ll return. I always will

Forget-Me-Not, photograph by Flowers HD.com

Forget-Me-Not, photograph by Flowers HD.com

Dark-Eyed Juncos, a Tanka

I’d like to share a tanka that is currently appearing in Ribbons, Tanka Cafe, Winter 2015

Junco, photo by Kathy Adams Clark

Junco, photo by Kathy Adams Clark

winter light 

shadows linger low

behind us—

dark-eyed juncos

scurry past our feet

Juncos, photo by Brian Cunningham

Juncos, photo by Brian Cunningham

This poem appeared in Ribbons, Tanka Cafe, Winter 2015
This is the publication of the American Tanka Society,

Dining with the Woodpeckers

pileated suet

While visiting my brother and his wife this summer in East Aurora, New York, we experienced a truly wonderful and unexpected visit from three pileated woodpeckers at the suet feeder Jim had filled. His wife, Paulett, said the woodpeckers were frequent visitors to their lovely back garden. This was a first for me. Although I’ve been an on again, off again birdwatcher for most of my adult life, I’ve only seen one pileated woodpecker in person before. Seeing three at the same time was simply brilliant. Watching their acrobatics as they fed on the suet, flew back and forth to peck at a tree, and generally manoeuvered their rather large bodies in amazinglying agile ways was pure delight. After a feeding frenzy, they flew away and it felt amazingly still and empty where they had been. Much like a visit with beloved family and friends, the ‘after’ part comes all too soon and leaves a void in our hearts. This poem is dedicated to Jim and Paulett, two of the kindest and most caring people I know. Thank you for sharing your home, your family and your amazing woodpeckers with us.

pileated 5

Dining with the Woodpeckers

In the late August garden
The quiet afternoon now

Comes to a languorous close.
Out of nowhere, a flash of red,

Bright scarlet crests crowning
Zebra-patterned feathers.

Three Pileated woodpeckers
Begin to feast at the suet feeder,

Fluttering, flying tree to tree,
Tree to feeder, alternately

Pecking at thick maple bark,
Then shifting to soft silky suet.

The youngest, now the size of its parents,
Joins in to grab his share, and father

And mother dutifully give way.
For a few Cirque des Oiseaux moments

All three woodpeckers hang right side up
And upside down, their brilliant red heads

Flash like stop lights in the early evening sun.
We sit around the table eating an early supper

And sipping local wine. Conversation drifts
As we watch in these avian acrobatics.

Just as quickly as they arrived, so soon are
They are gone. More wine is poured,

Seconds of hot buttered corn and fresh
Heirloom garden tomatoes are passed

From one to the other. Like the birds,
We share this meal together, enjoying

The richness of what the day has given.
A light wind blows the leaves outside,

A beautiful evening for us to be together
Knowing that summer will end all too soon.

Picture by Beth Brandkamp

Picture by Beth Brandkamp