Two Aprils ago, and soon to be three, she established herself as a poem devotee. So timid at first, and so easily veiled; just pleased to rub elbows with those who are hailed as poets … TRUE poets, whose pens fairly crooned. She smiled through April, yet never attuned, and just shy of ease, was she.
Two Aprils ago, with three closing in, she opened a door to see what lies therein. She’s never looked back; now relaxed and at home … still pleased to rub elbows, and eager to poem. For once seeds were planted, and buds were in bloom, enamored was she with poetic perfume.
Two Aprils ago, now closer to three, goodbyes were not needed … nor will they now be.
Marie Elena
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Hard to believe it was only 2009 isn't it. Nice to see how "poetic perfume" lingers. You can smell it on your clothes, days later.
ReplyDeleteCHEV!! So good to see you out here! I lost you on Facebook ... you vanished. Hoping all is well. When you get a moment, please go over to Poetic Bloomings. I think you'll be pleased and surprised.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely, Marie. The story of you but also a tribute to others who greeted you behind that golden door. I LOVE the imagery, rhythm, and rhyme in this. :) It's so refreshing to be reading your enlightening poetry again.
ReplyDeleteLondyLuv! It's wonderful to see you back here again! Big, warm smiles to you!
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