Lesser Spotted Bunting

Sunday, February 03, 2013


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,



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