Category Archives: Poetry

The only way I know how to paint – with words.

Need

Do you remember
When we sat together?
It seems so long ago. 

You planted your head in my lap.
And spread your hair like petals all about you

I was storm clouds, full of rain and
My fingers were drops that ceaselessly fell
Over you,
Rejuvenating and invigorating,
Nurturing you
(And blocking the sun, if only I knew).

My fingers fell like water droplets and traced
Every line, every subtle contour of your face –
And pooled in the places that made you smile –
Memorizing them for a later date.

For now I guess.
For when you had outgrown the need for water,
The need for rain, 
And me.
For when my raindrops, falling down,
But held you down
And blocked the sun.

Then you spread your leaves wider,
And pushed taller than my clouds.

You grew without me,
Past me,
Toward the sun
And toward eternity.

Oh life!

Oh life! Great radiance!
Profoundest, happy Spring!
The brightest, deepest, truest greens
And living, breathing, permanence!
Ah, how I’ve loved your brilliant rays,
And grown in your ‘bounding sunshine!
Oh beautiful, bright Springtime,
How lasting felt the days!
How permanent the happy memories!
How vivid in my mind!
How I loved!
And lost the time.
Oh, how suddenly the warm breeze
Of life’s Springtime passes by.

I’d

I’ll never find another friend
That I can trust like you,
Never
Though I search this earth until it’s end,
Not one who’s half as true.
When I founder in life’s tossing waves
You give me reason to exist;
Be
And stay myself against the grave
That seems a refuge to this ship.
Like a compass when I’ve lost my route
You’ve led me through rough storms.
Here
In your safety when night’s winds are out
You’ve kept me dry and warm.
I have trusted your word that said “sail on”
When I had nothing to sail on to.
     Without
The promise or the hope of dawn –
But in darkness I’ve had you.
You are, my best friend, honestly
The truest harbor I’ve sailed to.
You.
You have become a part of me.
I’d never be here without you.

Clearing Up—Coast of Sicily, By Andreas Achenbach. Courtesy of Wikipedia.org

To My Brother

(My brother-in-law, Johnevan, who received a liver transplant before I met him)

I didn’t know you thirteen years ago
But I would know your absence had you had to go.

There would be something missing, something apart,
And like the stuttered beating of a broken heart,

Your absence could be measured and identified
Though not with scientific instruments quantified –

For some holes are as deep as they are wide –
And yours would stretch forever had you died.

If we lost you, J, you couldn’t be replaced
Like a faulty liver or a broken vase,

And we almost lost you all those years ago.
We don’t like to focus too much on that though

And we’re thankful that the Lord who grants
Life to each of us gave you a second chance.

It’s hard to think of where we’d be without you,
But, through the grace of God, now we don’t have to.

I’m grateful for the sacrifice of another
That gave you a liver – and gave me a brother.

Stargazing

I’ve often admired their burning gaze,
With my head tipped back on the darkest nights:
Their beauty never ceases to amaze –

And yet, I’m much more taken by the sight
Of those from which thy pure love shines –
Much fairer, dear, and far more bright

Than any fleeting fancy of mine.
More beautiful than all the heavn’ly lights,
A mirror of the world divine;

The embodiment of peace and right;
And more accessibly set to admire
Than those lofty points in their great height –

Besides, my love, yours carry me higher.
They’re easily seen both day and night,
And, truly they’re much brighter

Than any light in any sky.
And all heavens to me are within sight
When I stargaze into your eyes.

© Samuel Bartholomew and A Writer’s Blog, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Samuel Bartholomew and A Writer’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.