Command myself not
To stare --rare people.
Rarities with quiet in them--
Unsudden surprise,
Like littoralis inland or
Dream remembered-- I like those.
Something seen when they look,
Eyelashes open a
Private whisper of the world.
When they look up, a weightless
Smile --a sunlit cloud
Caught thinking.
Is it ocean or wind
In trees one hears?
Such people, the
Difference disappears.
This is an exquisitley beautiful whisper of poetry, through the eyes of someone greatly loved.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and moving comment, Jon. Thank you. Although Norma and I are in our 60s, I still see this whisper. I see it in children, people of all ages, and am always astonished. I see it in you too.
DeleteThank you, Geo. I'm embarrassed to admit I spelled "exquisitely" wrong.
ReplyDeleteYou underestimate my dyslexia. Hadn't noticed.
DeleteThis is a pearl of a poem, Geo, and lovely to read.
ReplyDeleteMost kind Arleen, thanks!
Deletequelle belle dame! je n'ai pas tout compris du poème! sorry...belle journée!
ReplyDeleteIl est vrai, Norma est belle. Je me sens toujours paisible près d'elle. Merci!
DeleteVery nicely written. It is beautifully from the heart.
ReplyDeleteMost kind.
DeleteLovely poem for a lovely lady. Thanks for stopping by my blog and following. I'm following this blog now.
ReplyDeleteThanks, and welcome!
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