Well, this gives me a lot of room to wander and to daydream. I could go on forever.
I’m thinking about my husband about whom I rarely write.
Your Eyes
By
Leslie Golding Mastroianni
I went to the door to ask you something but I forget what it was
Was it something to do with dinner being ready I can’t even remember
Remember though that I looked out at you sitting on the porch
Porch built by our lovely Amish neighbors always so cheerful
Cheerful you are when you find little snakes on the warmed stone steps
Steps to take in love and looking at your blue eyes
Eyes staring off out into the universe having a lovely dream
Dream while the hamburgers were cooking and I was hungry
Hungry, yes, but looking at your eyes and the sublime look you had
Had your eyes ever been so full of light I can’t remember
Remember though that you rarely have a moment like that
That you are peaceful, at rest, gazing out on all good things
Things so many that I looked at you for a brief part of a second
And quietly closed the door.
I’m a little vain about my writing. I’m proud of the fact that I invented a new kind of structure for a poem. Begin with a word or image–begin writing a poem and the last word of the first line has to be the beginning of the following line. Then, the ending of the last line has to be the word or image that began the poem. It’s called “see-saw poetry” or “How Leslie Drives Herself Crazy.” I’m always happy when I find a way to do it correctly.
The first blog in my new series is about Peter and that makes me happy.
lgmwriting 