I loved gardening
beneath sun and deep blue sky
in sensible shoes.
I loved Keith as he
painted old cheap plastic pots
‘seventies Corvettes.
I loved filling them
with flamboyant petunias,
modest marigolds.
I loved settling in,
sipping black coffee, watching
red robins rummage.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
I love, “I love you,”
daily coming from your voice –
confirmed in your eyes.
I love, “I love you,”
emitting from hand-drawn hearts
on scraps of paper.
I love, “I love you,”
proved in daily selfless acts,
both little and vast.
I love, “I love you.”
But I treasure the daily
non-verbal “I do.”
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
Happy Anniversary, Keith. 30 years of daily thankfulness for the gift of you.
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 20 – Writer’s Digest (Day 20: Write a love and/or anti-love poem.)
My love for you is deep,
yet my words steep in
tepid water.
No flavor; nothing to savor.
They begin, but fade,
delayed by … what?
A depth I can’t reach,
though I beseech them.
A well with no bucket.
A spell I can’t cast.
My tone, a droning bore.
I wish my words would
soar
surprise
rise
revel
to the level of love.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
Stuck inside these four walls.
Feels it’s been forever.
Never seeing no one
sane again. It’s true.
It’s just you. Crazy you.
Will we ever get out of here?
Now it’s looking like months away.
I won’t make it out sound, I fear.
All I need is a break today
From your dad jokes and puns, my dear.
Hush and hand me those Tums, my dear.
Well, my mind exploded with a mighty crash
As he told another pun.
And it’s clear that he’s entertaining himself,
And I hope he’s having fun.
Man with a pun. Man with a pun.
And I’m stuck inside, nowhere to hide.
Oh, save me please, someone
From this man with a pun.
Man with a pun.
Man with a pun.
I am so done.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Just kidding, guys! Actually LOVING being stuck with my funny/punny hubby!
Took this from Band on The Run, and ran with it.
Lucky, lucky me.
Log cabin nestled in pines.
My name on his lips.
© Marie Elena Good
#hockinghills
#frontierlogcabins
#october2018
How many years have you and I come here
To seek a respite from demands of time?
We listen long as birdsongs echo clear,
From porch swing’s nest, to hills we dare to climb.
We had to leave behind our getaway,
As pressures of life’s urgencies took charge.
This season rendered cabin dreams “someday,”
But pressing needs no longer loom so large.
We’re homebodies (both you and I), and this,
Our quiet cabin nestled in the pines,
Feels so like coming home, it’s simply bliss –
This space where life and harmony align.
I’ve seen these hills with no one else but you.
There’s none with whom I’d rather share this view.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
PHOTO COURTESY OF LOVABLE IMAGES (lovableimages.blogspot.com)
My lover asks me:
“What is the difference between me and the sky?”
The difference, my love,
is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.”*
I sigh.
Forever I’ll yearn to compose,
In verse or prose, for you my love, and affirmation thereof.
‘til then, let’s kiss
And pretend I penned this.
© Marie Elena Good
Did you notice
That I noticed
You were noticing me too?
Did your eye
Catch my eye
When I eyed those eyes of blue?
Were you touched
When we touched
Accidentally (if that’s true)?
Did you see
That I sighed
As I saw your soul shine through?
Did you sense
The immense
Magnetism, me to you?
Do you know
You’re loved so,
And I’m glad I said “I do.”
I write of love for my family, friends, and home. Yet, ink halts the flow of emotion to page when I attempt to write of my love for you. The deep sentiment I feel translates tritely to the page, while my soul yearns to write lyrics for the love song my heart endlessly hums. Listen, then, to the silent lyrics penned in tender eyes and gentle touch, for it is there that my heart’s song is rendered.
