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david-l-thomas
American I live with my wife in Richmond, Virginia and am retired from the work force. I enjoy writing, woodworking, blogging and photography. I graduated from Boston University (1968-1972) with a degree in English Literature. I wrote poetry while there and submitted it to Anne Sexton in hopes of being chosen for one of her classes. But no luck. I did see W.H. Auden read his poetry at Boston College however. Two years ago I began writing again for my blog Virginia Breeze. I write a poem every month or two and am collecting them to be read someday on a sailboat in the Chesapeake Bay where "my" ashes will meet wind and water.
There is a moment When sunlight bathes the trees And your thoughts My dear, dear friend Invade me. You seem to love the morning When our room is cool And paper, pen and attitude Anchor an old fool Bowing fore your witness Reaching out for lines Winding towards your inner life And sketching it in rhymes. So soft your silent whispers But clear and hardly grave Patiently you elevate These aging earthbound ways. Why such generosity Beloved friend of messy me? Perhaps. . . When time is near an end And meeting on a star You will share your name Down here and how I knew you then. Until that day when music plays Around and through our souls We grasp the air and strain To hear the cadence of your strolls As we hope to be so still And clearly hear your voice. So busy we remain Both supplicants and prey Chasing our discordant days Contradictions near your side As sunlight bathes the morning trees With songs of immortality. May we always walk afar Singing with a morning star Reuniting earth with heaven Brothers in this house forever.
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Oct 17, 2010
Oct 17, 2010 at 8:06 AM UTC
The Writer's Friend
How is it possible     We are here today?     I remember silence     Before you sighed     And opened up my world.     Now the wind is all around my heart     And sand enfolds your lovely feet     Past and future moments disappear       As we fly     With many eyes     And wings upon the current.     They will find our shoes     And echoes of our cries     Between the waves     Children running on the beach     And days we cannot number.
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Aug 14, 2010
Aug 14, 2010 at 9:23 AM UTC
The Beach
I thought about your wings today Your carefree laughter Sun bleached hair Floating from a tree Over there. Sitting here I leave the windows open Curtains twisting Recalling tastes like wine Decanting you inside. Amber headlights Through the night Timber strobes Make me uptight. I wait for you to ring. And will not shout For anything But writhe Upon this bed Chasing ghosts Inside my head. Joining you So soon instead.
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 12:53 PM UTC
Quietly Within The Night
The evening has left us Quietly to ourselves. I watch you move before the mirror Releasing all the catches and the stays The predictable moments and habitual ways Until a lamp light soft reveals Your moving presence and my cautious appeal. Can I reach the glistening  in your eyes And hold you in my arms? A prayer weaves its way Above As we explore The promises of love.
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 1:42 PM UTC
Promises Of Love
They left you on a shelf Beneath the bricks and a cloudy sky As we waited for your date with a field of grass. The gentleman who dressed you was nice enough And he rolled you out when I arrived to say “Good-bye”. You rested in the center of the room As I recalled the plastic flowers On our dining room table years ago. All of us plus Pops and Nana too Thanking God for all His gifts And the Sunday meals you made. *** And this as well. On a beautiful summer day You put on a white blouse and skirt And took me to the blueberry fields. You laughed as I pretended to take A broken drum Out the door for the berries. Then you sang a song just for us As cool breezes charmed my senses While goodness found mercy Next to a stream and gave a little boy A picture that would last until now. *** This morning I went to Starbucks After watching the river at dawn, Immersed in making photos with pastel shades of sky And bushes that seemed blue in the early morning air. I ordered coffee To awaken my frozen limbs And a blueberry scone. The berries are sweet. I find them more delicious Than chocolate Or wine.
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Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 1:24 PM UTC
The Blueberry Fields
I cannot fly today Yet perhaps last night We flew between the stars Who can tell? Tomorrow will no doubt Be like today But not always Not everlastingly so. I sew the scenes Of our escape While sitting here tonight Sleepily concealed In this weighted room And happily involved In inward visions Of eventual flight. Please pardon My distraction. I am so immersed In a solitary search For solar satisfaction.
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Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 3:15 AM UTC
I Cannot Fly Today
If I was a fish in the sea     I would love to be     Right next to thee.     Nibbling at your toes     Peaking at your nose     Moving down to see     Your beautiful     Round     Knee.
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Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 1:38 PM UTC
A Nice Place To Be