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Saturday, December 28, 2013

More Free Verse

I don't do long road trips without cooking up something.  It's dangerous to let me get bored because I'll have some new creative project in the brew.  Anyways, my last sixteen hour road trip only gave me one poem- which is good.  And then other events inspired the second poem.  


Again, they are copyrighted.  Please, no copying, just share the blog link.  You know, you have to copy the url in the box way up there just like you'd have to copy the poem just down there.  
This poem came from the natural doubts and fears (insecurities) that plague us when we are distanced from someone.  Those feelings of, "How will they react when they see me next?  What might they say or fail to say?  Will they be kind of brush me away?"

This poem came from the natural doubts and fears (insecurities) that plague us when we are distanced from someone.  Those feelings of, "How will they react when they see me next?  What might they say or fail to say?  Will they be kind of brush me away?"






I Entreat You To Be Gentle


I entreat you to be gentle
with me, this heart is healing still.
I fear the cloudy day-dreams
That dance often upon it.
The moments when you turn away
as though you do not notice,
Or sober-faced and dull
Offer a brief answer, nothing more.
With pocketed hands, uninterested stance
No bend of the head or heart or eye--
These things to me are worse
Than a flat refusal, rebuttal.
I'd feel less wounded
By your voicing your wish
For me to just go away.

I entreat you to be gentle
And I will do the same.
For once acceptance is offered
The fears all wash away
And we smile more
And laugh a lot
And notice things and then
As time goes on we step and look around
And notice how the pain is gone
The scars are softened
The bruises whole.  And yet,
We continue to be gentle.


This poem was born about 11:00 PM Christmas Eve. It is the result of my understanding that I need
someone who "can dance" which is rather rhetorical. A friend's mother gave her daughter some pearls of wisdom when she told her, "Don't ever marry a man who cannot dance." That was literal, and the
daughter did and was soon divorced because her husband was too starchy for her and did not like to
have fun. The woman could not laugh and be happy without the wet-damper of a man putting her down all the time.  When I say dance, I do not mean some worldly wiggle. I'm using it rather rhetorically, and of course, it does stem from a memory I have of watching a group of friends sing and dance to camp songs. I could not join in because I had lost my voice, but I was watching a man who could dance.


A Man Who Will Dance


Lord knows I need a man who will dance
Cause I'm the frollickey type.
When I'm happy I laugh and I shout and jump
And I don't much care what others think.
Sure my feet know no pattern.
I'm a klutz all around for the rhythm.
But my smile's contagious and laughter boisterous
I sing loud, clap, stomp, and guffaw;
But I'm happy and want him to be too.
Lord knows this man's gotta dance
Or one of us will wilt away.
He'll need feet with wings, some tempo and spring
And a smile that's as big as his laugh.
He can't be concerned 'bout what others think.
He can make his own pattern for all that I care.
So long as he lives and he loves and he laughs
We'll be in perfect step all the way.
Lord give me a man that will dance. 


Thanks for reading and commenting!
Your wing-footed, warm-hearted, cheesy-grinning dancer

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