Poetry Gallery Four
This gallery contains two poems, one of attributes, one of magic.
SHE APPROACHES
She approaches;
my mood begins to lift as she nears
with her beautiful bright eyes,
wondrous wide smile, and satin soft voice.
I tense in anticipation;
will she reach out to me this time
with a gentle rub of my shoulders,
or a quick but tender hug?
Perhaps it was untoward and not meant to be;
yet, it really doesn’t matter.
She had already touched my heart
and will be remembered and cherished always.
For now I am more inspired,
ambitious, optimistic, creative, and loving,
and such attributes do not spring from wrong,
and such attributes do not spring from emptiness.
THERE'S SOMETHING MAGICAL ABOUT RAIN
There’s something magical about rain.
I wrote a poem exalting the rains some years back and then
later made a short film using the poem as voice-over.
I vividly remember going to my college theology class one
rainy morning. I had on a black raincoat and it felt like a
priest’s cassock.
I recall sitting by the window in a Paris Café on a Sunday
morning. My wife had gone shopping. I sat there alone
while listening to the music in the background, enjoying
my café au lait and madeleines, and watching passers-by
gently navigating through (and sometimes in) the sidewalk
puddles.
I used to love walking in the rain with an umbrella and
hearing the drops hitting above my head. Since I now use a
wheelchair, I sometimes park my car safely and watch and
listen as the rain cascades on and off my windshield.
Some people consider it a hindrance, and no doubt
sometimes that’s true. Still, there’s something magical
about rain.
[Note: The short film mentioned above can be seen here.]
SHE APPROACHES
She approaches;
my mood begins to lift as she nears
with her beautiful bright eyes,
wondrous wide smile, and satin soft voice.
I tense in anticipation;
will she reach out to me this time
with a gentle rub of my shoulders,
or a quick but tender hug?
Perhaps it was untoward and not meant to be;
yet, it really doesn’t matter.
She had already touched my heart
and will be remembered and cherished always.
For now I am more inspired,
ambitious, optimistic, creative, and loving,
and such attributes do not spring from wrong,
and such attributes do not spring from emptiness.
THERE'S SOMETHING MAGICAL ABOUT RAIN
There’s something magical about rain.
I wrote a poem exalting the rains some years back and then
later made a short film using the poem as voice-over.
I vividly remember going to my college theology class one
rainy morning. I had on a black raincoat and it felt like a
priest’s cassock.
I recall sitting by the window in a Paris Café on a Sunday
morning. My wife had gone shopping. I sat there alone
while listening to the music in the background, enjoying
my café au lait and madeleines, and watching passers-by
gently navigating through (and sometimes in) the sidewalk
puddles.
I used to love walking in the rain with an umbrella and
hearing the drops hitting above my head. Since I now use a
wheelchair, I sometimes park my car safely and watch and
listen as the rain cascades on and off my windshield.
Some people consider it a hindrance, and no doubt
sometimes that’s true. Still, there’s something magical
about rain.
[Note: The short film mentioned above can be seen here.]
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