My Tiny Bag of Sand (February 2007)

under every pyramid
and bodies freshly tanned
finds the topic of my poem
it’s my tiny bag of sand

I can see it in my mind
like ideas newly planned
a little piece of Heaven
is my tiny bag of sand

people walk along the coastline
picking shells up in their hand
but they’ll never grasp the concept
of my tiny bag of sand

it’s my beauty, it’s my pleasure
it’s my way around the bland
it reminds me of a better day
my tiny bag of sand

   

      

Copyright L.M. 2007. (alternate end stanza:
it’s my beauty, it’s my pleasure
it’s my way around the bland
it reminds me of a better day
on vacation, far away
idolizing Hemingway
my tiny bag of sand )

Gold Firings

in the nighttime
when you’re standing by my door
will you look up
and see me falling still
when you say my name
I could pull back one more time
but your eyes are far
from mine

in the starlight
she seems so far away
in the parklight
I never feel alone
but when you’re gone
it’s me who’s disappeared
could you ever let me be
a fear

it softens you with time
singing along with me
till I feel no shame
in believing
you impress me, love
with everything inside
still I feel this pain
in believing

       

       

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (side note: I don’t usually like using the word “love” as an appellation, for many reasons, but here I just couldn’t think of anything that flowed as well, so…..).