Toots did not want to go down for a nap yesterday. So I lay down with her to help. I was tired anyway after the weekend of furniture schlepping. As her flip flopping subsided, words and images I really liked began to fill my head. I thought, as soon as she settles, I have to get up and write this down.
Next thing I knew, I caught myself snoring, poem gone. I never nap.
About an hour later, I began to recall the initial images of the opening line and end lines, but not all the others in between with as much clarity. Then I thought, did I really need them?
So here's what I captured from the ether of dream land's edge forest:
Another love poem
He said I love you like a cold beer and pocket knives.
She answered I love you like chocolate ice cream.
He said Honey, I love you like blueberry pancakes.
She said I love you like ice tea, potato chips,
and the sweet tang of bread and butter pickles
on a hot summer day.
He said But those are all side dishes, there’s no sandwich.
She answered Honey, you are the sandwich.
I love your poem. And I am impressed it was actually lovely -- usually the ones my mind makes up as I fall asleep turn out ridiculous.
ReplyDeletethank you, jacqui!
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