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joetheplumberpoet.com - 12/10 Poem of the month ( a trilogy; please read post script)
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12/10 Poem of the month ( a trilogy; please read post script)
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12/10 Poem of the month ( a trilogy; please read post script)

Green Leaf Memory                                    

 

I tried to fight off winter,

   It was as a redwood to a splinter.

As I looked north to that wind,

   It was known the season would not rescind.

The darkness and the cold,

   The flag of frost would unfold.

The warmth of summer air,

   Has left us longing for somewhere…

I can only picture a night,

   One so blustery, a chilling blight,

No fire or blanket makes right.

   I must keep summer in sight,

The green leaf memory to hold tight…

   I watch the flames in the firebox,

I think how nice to feel the warmth,

   I see the wood as molten rocks.

Yet I know beyond my walls,

   It is there that winter crawls,

Slow and deliberate white and gray,

   I pass by a mirror's reflection of dismay.

©  Joseph James   12-09-06
                  From the book "White Night" all rights reserved

                   

                       Circulatory

                   

Beat, beat, beat…

My warm blood flows…

I see the face of Luciana,

Beat, beat, beat…

My warm blood flows…

I watch for the little breaths,

I measure the expanse of her chest,

I watch for little breaths…

Beat, beat, beat…

My warm blood flows…

I see the tiny gaze of newly wandering eyes,

I watch for the little breaths…

Beat, beat, beat…

My warm blood flows…

I see the face of the future,

I watch for the little breaths…

I measure the expanse of her tiny chest…

Beat, beat, beat…

Her warm blood flows…

                         

                  Joseph James

                       5-26-10                 for my little girrrl, LUCIANA

 © From the new book "O the Elms" soon to be released all rights reserved

 

 

Almost a Poem

                                         

 

I almost wrote a poem the day I came upon the brook,
   I heard the sound of musical notes as it meandered on,
I thought it would make for a delightful subject…
   I never perceived the babbling brook as quite so musical.
I almost wrote a poem the day I beheld the bald eagle’s flight,
   I could not believe that grace and power could be so well coupled…
I realized as I watched this soaring bird that it was a pattern of metaphors.
   I almost wrote a poem when I slipped under the willow…
It was hard to imagine that just a few months removed from winter,
   It had “wept” so profoundly, I wondered: did it weep with joy or sorrow?
I almost wrote a poem the day I visited my old street…
   I could remember the little voices of laughter,
I recalled the days of innocent summers,
   Rewards for finishing another year of grammar school,
Summer seemed so long back then.
   I almost wrote a poem that day I beheld Tommy’s face…
It had a certain expression hard to define…
   There in this beautiful child was a man; almost imperceptible…
Still, I did see a man; I want to behold this man…
   Someday, when I do, I just might write a poem…
                       Joseph James 6-26-10
                          © From "O the Elms" all rights reserved 


I always have a hard time with the long winter season .As you could see  by the date of the opening poem, I wrote it just before winter began; we all know you just have to make the best of it. Writing those words helped. I have found great joy in my two grandchildren, Tommy and Luciana. These two poems reflect the joy that new life brings; it helps me to remember every day is a gift, be it winter or summer... 
        
                                   Joseph James