my knife has sat here all along
I watched it as it performed
magic
simply
and I could have waited
but the fans related
as I was thrown in
a sea of strangers
sadly oblivious
but I caught on and on
and I really did see a peace
they laugh, you laugh
so training began right away
worked on until sleek
smooth as ice
and forgiven I sat silent
still waiting
reminded of killers
and sounds of childhood
until finally
I was wrong
I might have mattered
Copyright L.M. 2007.
it’s in her style
paths of words streaming
seeming
beaming
their peace upon us all
as we sing out delight
at the voice in our heads
perhaps mouthed in pain
or wreathing
or the simple hurt of breathing
barely there and yet
a final stanza’s set
forgiving all we weren’t
unopened in the eyes of many
sitting all alone
in waiting and impatience
wondering at such
use of passive tense
for not all eyes can see
splendid verbose beauty
but sit here we
gliding fingers highlight text
whose passion rises ours
left only to second-guess
whose life personified
yours or his
hers or mine
ignorant of time
and so it settles
her adorning mind
Copyright L.M. 2006.
(My sister had a different interpretation for this poem when she read it; she thought it was about the Virgin Mary….. have another read and you might see why she, and I now too, can glean that meaning from it…..)
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