Love is

I've always loved Adrian Henri's poem 'Love is...', ever since my first husband wrote it out to me in a letter he sent from university,  when I was still at school doing my A levels.  That last verse is enough to melt the hardest heart!   Our poetry group is sharing love poems next month,  so I've challenged them all to come up with "an extra verse"!  Here's what came to me. 


Love is special, love is kind
Love is all the treats you find
Love is always on my mind
Love is...

Love is cuddles in the morning
Love is awake and love is yawning
Love is special at dusk and dawning
Love is...

Love is inside all the cards we sent
Love is left behind in places we went
Love is what our lives have meant
Love is...

Love is clothes dropped on the floor
Love is not minding when you snore
Love is left always wanting more
Love is...

Love is you and love is me
Love is a still pond and a raging sea
Love is all the days that are left to be
Love is. 

© Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Leave taking

I've been to two funerals recently. I suppose it's inevitable that their frequency will increase as I get older,  and my peer group ages alongside me.  It makes you consider your own mortality, and prompts a resolve to use the days left to you more wisely.  But somehow you never do, preferring to think there's still enough time left.   The death of an elderly uncle is easier to bear. It's possible to reflect on a long life, well lived,  To remember the fun you had when you were small, How he made you shriek until you were breathless,  To consider the grace of his faith, which eased his end.  The death of my sunny, fun-filled friend Is much harder to balance. We are all too aware She had too few years to enjoy her joyful take on life,  Will miss out on too many evenings full of laughter,  No longer guide her grandchildren into adulthood. Both deaths celebrated as a release from pain.  Both lives celebrated as lives lived well.  We carry their memories home with us,   To
Read more

Dont go to India

I wrote this after a toilet stop in the way from Jaipur to Varaneeshya.  Don't go to India  not if you worry about squatting over a hole in the ground, with no running water. not if you worry about hawkers thrusting their wares in your face, "300, 200, 100 only". not if you worry about children caked in street filth, tugging at your sleeve, your heart. not if you worry about rubbish, plastic bottles, bags, packaging, strewn across the streets. But if you can make peace with all that  you will find beauty wherever you look. ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved
Read more

Do you have a preference?

Whenever I'm asked 'which do you prefer?' I usually say 'I don't mind,  whichever is easier' - because I hate to cause extra work for anyone! But of course,  I do have preferences.  Today's poem is thanks to an idea from Elizabeth Boquet, who by the way is a great poet to follow (elizabethboquet.com). I prefer modern fiction to classical  I prefer cats who curl up on your lap I prefer the smell and taste of coffee I prefer it decaffeinated nowadays.   I prefer blues and greens,  turquoise and teal above all other colours I prefer men with blue eyes I prefer white flowers.  I prefer walking through woods, alone  or with the one I love I prefer the journey to the destination I prefer a slightly cloudy sky.   I prefer to Lindt chocolate to Cadbury's I prefer custard creams I prefer mince pies to Christmas pudding I prefer vegetarian to vegan. I prefer to avoid conversations about politics unless I know we all are lefties,  and are unlikely to fall out - I
Read more