Tag: love poems

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (XI)


“Too many words”

Oh Lizzy,
too many words and too much motion
to describe the branch’s sway
and the afternoon of your eyes!

Buzz, hum, and flutter are slower words.
City whisper heard from the hills,
and voices’ splash crossing the canyon.

Seep in, stillness,
settle the swell of the sea!

Too many words, too much motion
to feel the feel of the earth,
its grass beneath the hooves,
its spray upon the cheek.

With so little wisdom,
with circles and struggles and haste,
how can I hope to catch the ripple
of your breath on the glass of my soul?

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (X)


“The moon found you”

Caught in the discarded straw
on the floor of the loft,
the broken rays reached toward you.
Like timid fingers they touched lightly,
then relaxed embracing your ankles.

Slowly, like a child entering water,
you were immersed in the light.
It moved like a gentle river
illuminating your cool flesh,
it flowed to the eddy of your knees
and grew in two rich currents
to meet at the top of your thighs.
Pausing, rising and falling with your breath,
tender waves rolled to your neck,
caressing your forelegs and breast.

As the light reached your eyes
I feared it might wake you,
so I blocked it with my hoof
and let you go on sleeping.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (IX)


“A lesson in beauty”

Because the flowers hide patiently
under the cool blanket of autumn,

because the spring comes quietly
with the sound of melting snow,

because the breeze touches softly
with the fresh fragrance of summer,

I will have to learn to see,
to listen and to feel,
if I am to find you.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (VIII)


“I cannot offer”

The hills do not know me
and the waves erase my name,
I cannot offer the gifts of the earth.

I cannot offer the broad mountain and wild rose,
the moody sky and its quarreling clouds.
My hooves are frightened,
they fall on the rocky path,
and they tear on the virgin thorns.
Because its waters do not call me,
I cannot offer the gifts of the earth.

But you sprang from the soil.

You awoke in the blue day
that echoed in the trees,
opened your arms, and embraced the dawn.
Your voice flew from branch to branch,
and your happy hooves played,
laughing with the stream.
The wind whispered secrets of the stone,
and the sun sketched your soul
with stretching shadows.

I cannot offer the earth,
so I wait the night in silence
to admire your midnight crown.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (VI)


“Your eyes”

The shades of sky
in the seasons
are not so numerous
as the shades of your eyes.

With dawn’s first glow
they opened,
extracting light
and drinking color,
with the play and splash
of the stream.
Hills, feathers, and branches
were the instruments
of their song,
and they went reading
the notes of the day,
reading its words,
(reading these words),
and casting their image
in the reflecting eyes
of another.
They continued,
sharing their illuminated
give and take,
until twilight released its rivers,
and your eyes,
like the tip of an alpine peak
caught the last sparks
of fleeting fire.

Through electric shadows
they carried their light,
until evening closed
and they opened anew,
in the night of your dreams.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (V)


“Your name”

The world was still new,
uncertain shapes and sounds,
when first
you heard your name.
“Lizzy” could have been an apple,
or a butterfly, or a sunset in spring,
but its syllables
became a seed,
the sprout of your center.

Little by little
you grew comfortable
with the sound and the colors
in your name,
its wings sailed
from voice to voice,
the houses and streets and trees,
making its way
to the peak of a dream.

At the first competition
it seemed the chilly name of another.

It was not yet you,
its essence was untested,
so you went seeking,
searching in weary mirrors,
in questioning shadows,
in solitude,
until you found
its true voice singing
in the slow light of dedication.

It was then it lingered,
and stopped a Blurtso that passed,
thinking it was the echo of an apple,
or a butterfly, or spring.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (IV)



Just above whirl the sparks
and the planets in space.
Their silver tails leave wounds
on the dark glass of the sky.

Tonight the moon mounts
the slow steps of the spheres,
raised like an idol by holy hands,
scaling the edge of the night.

At the summit the light lingers,
awaiting its worldly worship,
then descends, riding on ropes,
borne on the back of the air.

Like a burning crystal,
the moon has been sent for you.
It lights and carries your name
to a place beyond the sound
of the whistle and whirl of stars.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (III)



A single obsession of light,
a single smile
in the soil of the soul,
a flash in the shadow,
a burning planet,
a single note from the spheres.

A single light illuminating
the water’s crash
at the cliffs of the heart,
a leaping light of statues
erected and razed in the foam,
an undulating light reflecting
the swell and hollow and sway.

A simple light persisting,
in absence,
an extinguished star that continues.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (II)


What’s that you’ve been writing? said Alex. It’s a collection of poems, said Blurtso. A collection? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, for Lizzy. I’m calling it, Graham Cracker Crumbs. Why? said Alex. Because when I see her pass, said Blurtso, and then she’s gone, I feel as empty as an empty pie tin. Oh, said Alex, and the poems are the crumbs that remain? Yes, said Blurtso, the remnants of my lost rapture. Can I hear one? said Alex. Sure, said Blurtso, this is about the time I saw her limping across campus. I call it, “O my love limps so!”

“O my love limps so!

“The birds were sweetly chirping
and the grass was growing green,
as I waited on my bench
for the jenny of my dreams.

While the shadows slowly passed,
not a vision did I spy,
‘til suddenly across the grass,
a limping caught my eye.

My love is sorely stricken,
she’s suff’ring and distressed!
Her left rear hoof is lagging,
is lagging behind the rest!

Oh lovely injured unguis!
Oh tender cloven pes!
Of late so sweet enticing,
now dragging on the grass.

Oh ass! Oh hoof! Oh ankle
so twisted and exposed!
The pain that’s in your heel
pricks the loving heart that knows!

That’s very good, said Alex, but what’s an “unguis”? “Unguis,” said Blurtso, is the Latin word for hoof. What about “pes”? said Alex. “Pes” is the Latin word for foot. Oh, said Alex, I guess Latin’s not very poetic. No, said Blurtso, I guess not.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (I)


Hmm…. moon, June, spoon…
hoof, goof, roof… ear, dear, clear…
tail, whale, snail… eye, pie, sky…
pumpkin, rumpkin, sumpkin…