Click here to hear the poem read aloud:
You
you think you’re old
you meet someone
you have no new words to say
you think of every phrase you know
they all sound dull and so clichéd
but you write them down regardless
because somehow you have to start
your brain no longer functions
so it all pours from your heart
she’s a Shakespearean sonnet
a hive full of honey
she’s Judy’s Easter Bonnet
she’s a painting by Monet
she’s a hillside of heather
a foreign accent
she’s a love song by Cohen
and a dream lover’s scent
she’s a novel by Steinbeck
she’s a poem by Burns
Pavarotti’s Nessun Dorma
she’s Dior being worn
she’s Paris in Springtime
a small white cloud in the sky
the laughter of children
a single tear of pure joy
she’s the Italian lakes
the Islands of Greece
a perfect bouillabaisse
she’s the whole world, at peace
she is everything beautiful
and everything good
she is perfect in denims
and perfecter nude
each second of each day
thinking of you
each minute of each year
loving just you
and all of my life now
missing just you
The reading of this poem is perfect. The low fading voice expressing tender loss in the last two lines was like melted chocolate; dripping with torment. A brilliant piece of writing and read to perfection.
Isadora 😎
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A beautiful poem of sadness and love. Or is it love and sadness. I really liked it.
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Loved this!!!
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AnElephant is happy that his words bring pleasure.
Thank you, sir.
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AnElephant definitely can… that was so beautiful. Yes, best to remember the lovely bits, even if they bring a little bittersweet longing…
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AnElephant is happy Dale enjoys this so much, but does not understand ‘a little’ when applied to bittersweet longing.
But yes, the lovely bits…
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Yes, a poet such as yourself does not do “little”, don’t know what I was thinking to write such a thing….
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Dear Elephant,
Lovely and upbeat, yet not without a sense of longing and pathos. A masterpiece painted with metaphor. AnElephantCan make me smile.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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AnElephant smiles because the Lady R smiles, but the longing remains long after the joy of love departs.
AnElephant, they say, never forgets, so why does he remember only her perfection, and none of her flaws?
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This is a bit different for AnElephant. This is simply beautiful. Lovely to read and even better to listen to the words.
I would be remiss if I did not mention that I believe AnElephant has a foreign accent.
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Thank you, Anja, for your kind words.
AnElephant is happy that you enjoy his poem, even if your foreigner’s ears struggle with the perfection of his accentless speech.
Hugs, my sweet friend
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