Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Four intimate musicians
You are their friend
And their proclaimer
You name them man and wife
Their love for each other reflected
With care for friends and family
With love for all other onlookers
A proud smile engages
Clear words well chosen, soft spoken
Are heard in all the far corners
Heard in the depths
Of the chamber
And of the body
Laughter, tears, joy
Forever
So much celebration
A poem
Four intimate musicians
Children sat in shared contentment
A sense of purpose
Sent by chance and there caught
Captured without question
A marriage
A gathering of families
Old and young, young and old
Untold stories soon unfold
Into the afternoon
Into the evening
And then forever onwards
Beyond the settled end of day
Beyond the seeing as we say
A Poem from He waits for the Season - Her reason is clear available for Kindle from Amazon