Love is all Around

Sad or Glad. Can you feel it? Can you see it?

Once in awhile, I enjoy a good challenge. Today, I challenged myself to write a few love and close relationship poems without sounding sappy, cheesy, or being overtly graphic.

I prefer soft romantic wording, sometimes leaving a hidden meaning in a poem to touch a reader’s heart, but then to bloom again inside their imagination. I call it a challenge, because for me that’s what it is.

The second most challenging poetry for me to write are poems of loss and heartache. There are ways of getting the feelings to a reader without using sticky-gooey lines of misery and woe. I hope I’ve followed my own rules in the poems I’m including here.

First are four poems of loss —-three are for children. Next are five poems of love and romance:

Taps for my Soldier 
 
A gentle breeze  
chatters the leaves 
as birds sing  
their greetings. 

The sun shines  
on a day like any other, 
yet like none before.
 
Two mirrored rows 
of uniforms line up 
like blue dominoes, 
white gloves holding 
rifles  at the ready.
 
A lone bugle cries.   
Twenty-four notes, 
each note, slow as a tear, 
blankets ears 
and heavy hearts.
 
In the silence between, 
nature holds its breath.
 
Gone is the breeze. 
Gone are the bird songs. 
Gone is her hold 
on composure, all lost 
in the bugle's lament.
 
Solemnly, a soldier 
approaches. 
White gloves present  
a tri-fold flag and, 
in one final mournful note, 
legions of silent voices unite 
to call a comrade home 
and a young wife weeps. 

-*-

Daddy's Boots
A Children’s Poem
(from a child's point of view)
                                             
Daddy left his boots for me					
and here I have to stay,
'cause daddy is a soldier,
I'm in charge while he's away.
                
In daddy's boots I can pretend		
that now I am the man,						
who does the things that daddy does
as only daddy can.

I help with little brother,
I help with folding clothes,
I help to set the table,
and I hope daddy knows

that every day I wear his boots
so I'll feel close to him
and I try to keep mom happy
till he comes home again.

I know that he's protecting us,
that's what soldiers do,
but his boots are WAY too big for me,
my job, being him, is too …
When is daddy coming home?
I miss him all the time.
Mom said daddy's proud of me,
and his boots ... fit me just fine.

-*-

Windows in Heaven
A Children’s Poem
(from a child’s point of view)

I know sometimes that clouds bring rain, 
in wintertime it's snow. 
And spring is good because it makes 
the pretty flowers grow. 

I know that God is everywhere 
and angels all have wings, 
that dogs can't talk and bunnies hop. 
I know so many things. 

But why do Daddies go away? 
It makes kids and Mommies sad. 
Are there windows up in Heaven? 
Did I do something bad?

Mommy said it's not like that ... 
children all are good. 
Sometimes Daddies just can't stay 
Even though we wish they could. 

She said Daddy loves me most of all,
and not to think he doesn't care ... 
and he sees me from the windows. 
God just needs him more up there.

-*-

Gramma’s Apron
A Children’s Poem
(from a child’s point of view)

Gramma's gone, but not forgotten, 
that's her apron hanging there. 
It still hangs in Grampa's kitchen. 
Sometimes he looks at it and stares.
 
When Gramma wore her apron 
it was magical to me. 
The pockets held such treasures 
for her grandkids just like me.

Saw it shine up Grampa's fender once 
just as pretty as you please   
and it wiped my brother's cheek off 
one time when he sneezed.

It took cookies from the oven.   
It rushed to wipe a tear.  
Got a grain of sand out of your eye  
And made a lap for the stones we’d hear.

It wiped spills up from the countertop  
when she was baking pies, 
a symbol of her love and care  
and it showed, too, in her eyes.

Sometimes I'm sad to look at it 
when I see my Grampa stare. 
Gramma's gone, but not forgotten. 
That's her apron hanging-there.

-*-

A Nickel for Thoughts of You 
 
I wish I had a nickel 
for every time I think of you, 
watching TV on the couch, 
chin parked on your chest, 
not sleeping, 
just resting your eyes 
for a minute;
 
or with your brow furrowed, 
chasing an errant whisker 
on the face in the mirror;
 
or your hands on the keyboard, 
and the amazing speed of those
intricate thoughts, 
considering the size 
of your hands;
 
or you secretly watching me 
from across the room, 
and me secretly catching you 
secretly watching me;
 
or your gentle touch 
when you pass my chair, 
just because you're glad I'm here.
 
Love is measured 
in so many little minutes. 
It's important we not miss them,
for who knows, 
life might be metered in hours.
 
It isn't really about the nickels, 
but it would be fun to see 
the almighty pile of coins ... 

-*-

Between The Covers 
 
Gentle man, 
you held me
like a treasured book 
as you memorized 
every line. 

In your hands, 
I felt new meaning 
breathed into my pages. 
 
Seductive bookworm, 
no one ever 
read me quite like you, 
nor will they ever again. 
 
Passionate reader, 
I miss how 
you bookmarked 
your favorite chapter 
between the covers 
during the night …
 
-*-

Forever Isn't Enough
  
Tell me again 
you love me. 
Hold me again 
like you care. 
Let me reach for you  
in the darkness 
and please, please,  
find you there. 
 
Let me want you  
deep inside me 
and know  
you want that, too. 
Let's make love 
all night and in 
morning's light,  
if we want,  
we'll begin again. 
 
Let me see your smile 
to return with my own. 
God, let's laugh out loud!  
May my name be  
the last word 
you breathe at night – 
here, now, today. 
 
Someday may never come,  
and forever won't be enough.  

-*-

Watching You Sleep 

Softly by my side 
you sleep. 
The love I feel, is real.
 
I can still taste your flavor 
as my fingers travel 
the highways woven 
in your face, 
not to wake you, 
but to etch them 
in my mind.
 
I breathe you in, 
your him-scent 
stamped  to memory, 
and my skin still tingles 
where we loved.
 
Those hands I love 
twitch in silent
dream direction 
and I wonder 
if I'm in there with you
behind the fluttering lids
. 
Now my eyes close 
as softly by my side, 
now softly in my mind, 
you sleep. 

-*-

A Man I Knew 
 
There was a man I knew.
Just knowing him 
made me think of poetry. 
 
Loving him, I learned 
accepting love 
is as important 
as giving it 
and the not so subtle 
difference between 
loving warm and
loving red hot.
 
Love like that 
can make you stupid, 
a total-immersion 
kind of stupid, 
but it made me 
want to read poetry. 
 
In a different time, 
and a different place, 
it might have worked, 
but it was over, 
and when the last page 
was turned,  
he was a man I knew. 
No regrets, 
just one perfect memory, 
and because I loved him, 
I write poetry.

-*-

[Children's poems from books, "Barking Spiders (and other Such Stuff)", and "Barking Spiders 2", by C.J. Heck)

["Taps For My Soldier", by invitation, Taps Exhibit, The Taps Project, Arlington National Cemetery, May 29, 1999].
 
["Taps For My Soldier", The Other Side of Sorrow, Anthology, Poetry Society of New Hampshire, June 2006]. 

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
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