Love Poem No.17

     So you think you’re a poet? Then prove it.
     Remind me of a fabulous memory of earth.
     Say something that causes me to want to stay alive.
He felt that a little over the top but
she’d always been possessed with the flair.
He itched his brain and found a dream:
     Lorca was right, your lips are blurred dawn.
     I first noticed that the morning you strained
     our son into this world, and said Oh dahling.
She smiled for he proved himself sufficient yet again. 
She curtsied, then took his hand and they walked on in their
aging affection, her wannabe poet and his favorite actress.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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4 Comments

  1. Alison on May 8, 2014 at 1:01 pm

    John, yet another very beautiful love poem. Writing to your wife seems to bring out the very best in your poetry. I especially adore the first 3 lines.

    From ze alps…
    Alison

  2. ErinOhMy on May 8, 2014 at 1:56 pm

    I really enjoyed this poem. I especially liked the end of the first line: “Then prove it.” As a wannabe poet and writer myself, that’s probably the best challenge a loved one can give me. Your poem made me smile and itch to write, which I think is part of what you wanted it to do.

    • thebeautifuldue on May 8, 2014 at 2:23 pm

      Hi, Erin, and thanks. I agree, that ‘prove it’ line, when coming from a loved one, can be just the kick in the seat I need (and want too).

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