The poetry continues. Quite frankly, "It never ends!" (Over the Hedge)
I read The Haunting at the lit cafe on Sunday. (As a "brawta" I did I Can Dream.) As I read, I felt comfortable. It was a delightful almost-seven minutes. I'd like to do it again. A small group had gathered at the Moonshine Cafe in Oakville. And, they kept their word :-) Reading and listening to poetry inside that literary cafe drew the probability of my being a published poet that much closer. It was...inspiring, y'know? I know. I use that word here a lot - for the same reason spelled out in the phrase that I also use here a lot: "Sometimes, you just need to be inspired."
The poem I'm about to share was written when I was 21. Gonna be honest. I was looking through this worn and torn book of poems, reading and re-reading and, I just found myself laughing out loud. For a few of them, I had to compose myself to continue. Of course I'm not laughing at the idea of my younger self in love. That couldn't be it...Nah! I'll work on it. I have a theory but, more anon.
Here now:
Sand in My Shorts
You took me from my dream
Into your reality.
Everything that I've ever hoped for
You handed to me
Under a star-spangled platter
Then, nothing else seemed to matter
But your sharing my fantasy
That dream which you had now
Realized.
And, in your eyes
I saw you doubting
Whether or not my love was mounting.
And I closed my eyes
And loved you
Hoping for no hurting retorts
While I had sand
In the folds of my shorts.
- Dnafcnatgada
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