Walls Lips
for M.B.
cheeks to kiss
all she’d give me now
all I’m allowed
too late for kisses
soft sweet ones, full of flesh
fresh strawberries, fresh milk
she was my dilly-girl once
once I used to have
a sack full of her to open
to break apart
feast for weeks
around when
mother died
sweet, when life
was most bitter
now she insists
I get along without
who was once
as near as air
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
8:33 p.m. 28.02.08
for M.B.
cheeks to kiss
all she’d give me now
all I’m allowed
too late for kisses
soft sweet ones, full of flesh
fresh strawberries, fresh milk
she was my dilly-girl once
once I used to have
a sack full of her to open
to break apart
feast for weeks
around when
mother died
sweet, when life
was most bitter
now she insists
I get along without
who was once
as near as air
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
8:33 p.m. 28.02.08
posted by Obie Quiet at 9:53 PM
2 Comments:
In all it's beauty the poem highlights pain. I sense that the poet is trying to fill an empty space the dilly-girl once filled. My favourite line is; "sweet, when life was most bitter" I love that because to make someone life sweet when they are going through pain is a remarkable thing.
Who are you, anonymous? How kind you are to stop by and to comment. Your own depth and sensitivity I find almost too touching. With ever so little effort, you've made me teary-eyed. It's the empathy, the affirmation, the chord or note, resonating between human beings. That is what it is for certain.
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