The Poetry Of..
Kenneth Widmerpool..................
For Laughs
The hope and love
Of all the moments
Of all the history of the world
Are nestled in your laugh
Rising above the background
Of all the songs of all the angels
Your laughter is my heart
Beyond a thousand metaphors
My heart is always yours
Catch
I remember not loving her.
Before she was The Mermaid
I taught her rowing one year
And the next to throw
And for a girl who had not played at all
She did not have a bad arm
Threw overhand and stepped off the throw correctly
Then one day near the water
She held my heart in her mitt
As she holds it now
When might that have happened?
Something to do with moonlight perhaps
Or when she said, "you are my poet."
And I thought that meant something else
Bay In December
The bay looks old
On this December day
Dead and cold
Like a great grey ancient thing
But were she here
Smiling at its side
She would sprinkle our
Blue moments on its surface
And they would penetrate.
Warmth would return
Laughing children
We would strike up the sails.
We would sing our songs.
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