Bernadette
on occasion of her 80th
birthday
Sometimes a poem doesn't come,
words curl up into the air out of
reach,
letters disintegrate before fully
formed,
the muse, alas, all too soon
disappeared.
But sometimes you
are the poem,
being the person you are is enough
to start a drizzle of thoughts drift
down,
your unique voice sticking them
together.
I will try to reconnect with the sky;
for you, through sheer force of my
love,
these inadequate lines will be written
and reach you over Atlantic waves.
You have always been young to me,
and are so now, with your quick
intelligence,
elegant style, your strength and
generosity
in always providing good company.
You chose the handsome storyteller
and had five of the finest pearls,
the most lustrous given, for a time, to
me;
a treasure, now with pain, I still hold
in my heart.
I value you. Value you as close family
and a friend. And although far away in
blowing snow,
my little pixes and I raise a glass to
you
and your extraordinary family Enjoy the
day.
Wshing I was there,
Sandra
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