Today's poet

[Stef F]

Might I curl up with you
warmed and sheltered
like the new lamb tucked
against its mother ewe?

Might I join you in peaceful slumber
close by your side
snug like hand in glove
torseau to lumbar?

Might I wake up with you
refreshed and renewed
like the rising sun
bringing cheer to all that we do?

And might this just be
the perfect ending
and the perfect beginning
for anyone, not just you and me?

Good night, my dear,
I dream that the past has passed
and the new is beginning
and that beginning be drawing near

[freckle]

Might I curl up with you
warmed and sheltered
like the new lamb tucked
against its mother ewe?

Might I join you in peaceful slumber
close by your side
snug like hand in glove
torseau to lumbar?

Might I wake up with you
refreshed and renewed
like the rising sun
bringing cheer to all that we do?

And might this just be
the perfect ending
and the perfect beginning
for anyone, not just you and me?

Good night, my dear,
I dream that the past has passed
and the new is beginning
and that beginning be drawing near

This is so sweet...lovely, keep dreaming of the north stef one day you will get there (just like one day somone somewhere might buy my house!!!!)...X runner I loved your poem and Mossdog the plath you put up....I am waking this morning to a continuing back niggle which i think might stop me from training for a bit (got it lifting a chair last week i think)....drat!....anyhoo have a nice day all

[freckle]

the ol ones are the best.....

Love after love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.


Derek Walcott

[freckle]

The time before death

by Kabir

Friend, hope for the Guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think... and think... while you are alive.
What you call "salvation" belongs to the time
before death.

If you don't break your ropes while you're alive,
do you think
ghosts will do it after?

The idea that the soul will rejoin with the ecstatic
just because the body is rotten--
that is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
you will simply end up with an apartment in the
City of Death.

If you make love with the divine now, in the next
life you will have the face of satisfied desire.

So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
Believe in the Great Sound!

Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for,
it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that
does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.

[Old Whippet]

Might I curl up with you
warmed and sheltered
like the new lamb tucked
against its mother ewe?

Might I join you in peaceful slumber
close by your side
snug like hand in glove
torseau to lumbar?

Might I wake up with you
refreshed and renewed
like the rising sun
bringing cheer to all that we do?

And might this just be
the perfect ending
and the perfect beginning
for anyone, not just you and me?

Good night, my dear,
I dream that the past has passed
and the new is beginning
and that beginning be drawing near

Should be working but logged in for a peep at some poems. Little time at the moment and mostly focus on the original stuff here. I love this Steph. Peaceful and dreamy, and hopeful. And you rhymed lumbar with slumber. Inspired!

[N-dubya]

Abit of classic style poetry there Stef

[N-dubya]

I've been writing a few recently here's a new one I don't want to over explin this one although you might not know what I am harping on about

I am a blob of gravy on a painting
by Ternce Cuneo. Hiding amongst
brushstroked darkness, besides the
thick impasto muzzle flash. A variation

in trajectory, would see me an inch into
that chrome orange and vermillion red,
brash as an evening fair in late August.

How i got here is a mystery, perhaps
projected through the air from a knife
of the regimental silver or flicked
in silent contempt from a saluting
middle finger. Not even the ellusive

mouse freely skipping across spilled
ammunition tins is aware of me, but why
should he be, I'm a dried raw umber skin
that once was a blob of gravy.

[freckle]

I've been writing a few recently here's a new one I don't want to over explin this one although you might not know what I am harping on about

I am a blob of gravy on a painting
by Ternce Cuneo. Hiding amongst
brushstroked darkness, besides the
thick impasto muzzle flash. A variation

in trajectory, would see me an inch into
that chrome orange and vermillion red,
brash as an evening fair in late August.

How i got here is a mystery, perhaps
projected through the air from a knife
of the regimental silver or flicked
in silent contempt from a saluting
middle finger. Not even the ellusive

mouse freely skipping across spilled
ammunition tins is aware of me, but why
should he be, I'm a dried raw umber skin
that once was a blob of gravy.

now this has intrigued me n dubya, i will be puzzling over your metaphor for quite some time, i thought it was interesting that you used the imagery of a painting by (i think) the famous painter of steam trains alongside some language associated with warfare/the army etc in a very subtle way...i am not sure what the connection is but it is interesting....i am wondering if it is actually quite dark which is why you would rather not elucidate....off to ponder a bit more....thank you for posting

[Stef F]

now this has intrigued me n dubya, i will be puzzling over your metaphor for quite some time, i thought it was interesting that you used the imagery of a painting by (i think) the famous painter of steam trains alongside some language associated with warfare/the army etc in a very subtle way...i am not sure what the connection is but it is interesting....i am wondering if it is actually quite dark which is why you would rather not elucidate....off to ponder a bit more....thank you for posting

I'm also liking the mystery in the verse...I almost don't want to know!
Hum...ponder ponder and google! Cuneo also painted military art....did the umber blob arrive during a ceremonial dinner? Is it hung in a famous dining room? If it is about a work of art I haven't been able to find it
Stef

[Mossdog]

Might I curl up with you
warmed and sheltered
like the new lamb tucked
against its mother ewe?

Might I join you in peaceful slumber
close by your side
snug like hand in glove
torseau to lumbar?

Might I wake up with you
refreshed and renewed
like the rising sun
bringing cheer to all that we do?

And might this just be
the perfect ending
and the perfect beginning
for anyone, not just you and me?

Good night, my dear,
I dream that the past has passed
and the new is beginning
and that beginning be drawing near

Goodness Stef, you really are on a poetic roll - well done