Stronghold

Day 25: 'Begin by reading e e cummings’ poem [somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond]. This is a pretty classic love poem, so well-known that it has spawned at least one silly meme. Today’s prompt challenges you to also write a love poem, one that names at least one flower, contains one parenthetical statement, and in which at least some lines break in unusual places.'


From this place I will never travel willingly;
   I am held here, safely   
Cupped in your strong hands,
   as broad as an embrace.

I never would have dreamed my hands
   (ample, queen-sized) 
Could feel almost dainty like a daisy 
   resting on a sunflower head.

Your solid fingers scarcely fit
   between my own,
Forcing them apart each time we clasp 
   each other tight. 

Yet, oh how delicately you trace 
   my skin with those
Thick fingers, bringing sunshine 
   to my dark spaces. 

Nobody else in all the world 
   that I have met
Holds such exquisite, tender
   power in their hands.  


© Copyright 2023. 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

Kindness

Day 25: '  write a poem based on the “ Proust Questionnaire ,” a set of questions drawn from Victorian-era parlor games, and  adapted by modern interviewers . You could choose to answer the whole questionnaire, and then write a poem based on your answers, answer just a few, or just write a poem that’s based on the questions. You could even write a poem in the form of an entirely new Proust Questionnaire.' Typically I read the prompt in a rush before going swimming, seized on the word 'virtue' and composed something while in the pool.  It was only when I got back home that I realised the question was about the most overrated virtue.  Too late, I've written instead about the most underrated virtue: kindness.  It's hidden in the little things That brighten up each day. It's in the chores done without prompting,  The coins you save for my after-swim hairdryer,  The morning coffee brewed with a smile , The blanket shared on chilly evenings. It's in the well
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