When I lay here with you
like this
I feel as if we’re boulders
touching in a mountain stream,
and time rushes onward
all around us,
fast with a Spingtime thaw
or slow with slushy frost—
now choked with leaves
and broken sticks
now thundering by
in seething foam.
The seasons blur before us
and wash the world
downstream
around us,
but here we are
like boulders:
languid,
immovable,
and timeless.
Tag Archives: love
Passion
is a dog on a chain.
It runs around in circles,
whining for food and
barking it’s head off to be let loose—
and if chained up long enough
it’ll eat anything,
do anything
to get off.
Mirror
I love they way your eyes turn up
on either side when you smile.
They do the same for everyone, I’m sure,
but yours are the only ones that infect me.
And when you fix your hair,
and ask me how you look,
and smile in the way you do
I simply cannot help myself –
and then I smile too.
Meaning
Too often my search for meaning
discourages rather than fuels me.
I’m too focused on theme to enjoy novels
and too focused on purpose to enjoy life –
but for those rare moments when the world shrinks
and exists only in my arms or the walls of my home,
babbling, exploring, and grinning up at me.
Then I’m no longer searching,
either because I’m distracted or
because I am reminded.
Wandering
When I was in elementary school
and wanted attention from a girl I liked,
I’d wander off somewhere alone
in hopes my love would come for me.
I do much the same thing now that I’m married –
but with less hope.
It Does Not Matter
It does not matter what I write
of blood-soaked bathroom floors and notes
or bloody birthing tables;
of bodies huddled in the dark;
of children laughing on the grass;
of lovers cuddling tenderly
beneath a knitted blanket
a chilly Autumn day –
it doesn’t matter what I say
or in what way I say it.
I ignite thoughts for bushels,
little candles glimmering
in bowls on weathered windowsills
that no one ever sees.
It does not matter what I write
because I write for me.
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.
I’d
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.
To my Newborn Daughter
Gentle evening light
amid the drawn white curtains
bends to kiss your cheek
and lingers
softly on closed eyelids.
You squeak
a muffled sigh
and stretch your sleepy fingers
They curl over one of mine.
In the stillness of the night
beneath the drawn white curtains
I bend to kiss your cheek
and linger.