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Oh, my sister!
No one loves me
I am sorry...
Do not remember our laughs

خواهر من
هیچکس مرا دوست ندارد
...من متأسفم
خنده هایمان یادت نباشد
I guess
I'll go back to poetry
now that
the real thing is ending

It's hard to lose touch
when you finally found it
hard to imagine
being content
staring at computer eyes
and typing can never
replace her flesh and blood hand

yet the reality is we must part after meeting
so brief the moment
so unsweet the parting
I may write a poem full of tears
I may tear this **** keyboard apart

trying to make it all real once more
her feel her heart her love for me.
As I take in this beautiful confusion
November's breath is but an illusion ,
misconstrued as something permanent ,
simply frost longing to paint the firmament
A homeward trail , sugar glazed southern
pastry begging for black coffee , chips of
black walnut and pecan , golden apple
stained glass fragmenting portals to nirvana
and beyond
Happy sun , frosted window masterpiece -
Wednesday
Tall , ***** loblolly knights guard this wooded
passageway
Nosey , noisy ravens giving away my location
Aromatic , seedling evergreens to tempt my
imagination* ...
Copyright November 21 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson *All Rights Reserved
what would a night be
without the day to break it
skies holding our circumstance
another day we make it

what would a day be
without the night to wake it
eyes opening to another chance
it's up to us to take it
~

color...
the changing palette of bluest green and softest brown,
that gaze out the soul panes that adorn your face tween nose and brow.

taste...
that hint of mint on your breath with the slightest note of chardonnay
that dances on my tongue during a long goodnight kiss.

smell...
the smell of fresh linen, soft cotton with hints of floral scent on sea breeze,
that lingers in your hair and in the air after a long, sweet embrace.

sound...
the hushed whispers of your voice as you tell me,
"i'll stay the night tonight... and every one hereafter, 'til i breathe my last!"

place...
the gentle rising, shaded shoulder of bare land where i lay my head
between your slender arm, your silky neck.

memory...
the natural way your head fits perfectly twixt my arm and chest,
like a memory foam all its own made just for you.

person...
you... in all your forms, adorned and unadorned;
in grief, laughter, in hope, ever after!

~

*post script.

happy anniversary, darling!
thirty-six years ago today
you made me the happiest
and most blessed man
on God's green earth!
if i could go back
and change things...
i'd change nothing!
~

a tribute to the good times

cannot neglect the rough.

without a struggle comes no prize,

cocoon would yield no butterfly,

and without the rain the rose would die.

so when i'm tempted to forget

just how far we've come,

please remind me, dear...

please remind me that you love me;

sweet promise whisper in my ear.

repaint the mem'ries 'cross my mind,

kaleidoscope of precious times;

remind me that our journey

of a thousand miles began

these many years ago now,

the day you took my hand;

remind me that each day

is just another step,

toward dreams and goals and promises

that together will be kept.

~

*post script.

a re-post from earlier days.  
i must be feeling particularly reminiscent today

one of the earlier poems i wrote for my wife...
had to be twenty plus years ago now.

— The End —