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It would be foolish to stash it,
unlocked, under a rug or mattress.
I take it out often, inhale the fragrance,
alphabetize it,
count and double-check it,
like foreign currency.
When my time comes,
I'll listen to Shostakovich,
and bury it beneath the tree
I long to be pressed against and kissed.
Seeds of passion will sprout roots,
and bloom, uninhibited.
unlocked, under a rug or mattress.
I take it out often, inhale the fragrance,
alphabetize it,
count and double-check it,
like foreign currency.
When my time comes,
I'll listen to Shostakovich,
and bury it beneath the tree
I long to be pressed against and kissed.
Seeds of passion will sprout roots,
and bloom, uninhibited.
tk/June 2012
R.A.D. with Dmitri looking on...
R.A.D. with Dmitri looking on...
*Still Life, 1670, detail by Jean François de Le Motte
Love "count and double-check it,
ReplyDeletelike foreign currency"
Tess, that's a beautiful poem! Really.. Loved the way you wrote it. Made me miss a loved one too..
ReplyDeleteOld pages invite prying eyes.
this really struck a cord with me..it is beautiful...and made me a little sad for things lost..or locked away...have a lovely sunday..xx
ReplyDeleteA truly beautiful poem, clear, passionate and somehow tragic.
ReplyDeleteA lovely poem, Tess. I had the opportunity to work with an archive that included love letters from W. Faulkner. Pretty amazing to unfold and touch these things. k.
ReplyDeleteI have just such a tree. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteOh, so beautiful, Tess. I especially like the last 6 lines.
ReplyDeleteinteresting image to lock ephemera up. Never would have occurred to me. Love the idea of burying it and thinking of it sprouting roots and blooming. lovely. unfoturnately for some reason i cant play the videos. although last night i was able to access a netflix streaming video. it's a puzzle.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your work. Love the recitation.
ReplyDeleteI think (amd hope) that we have all got a box like that in our lives.
ReplyDeleteI am reminded of the letters my mother-in-law kept from her husband during the war...so sweet, so romantic:)
ReplyDeleteLovely take...I specially like the second stanza ~ Some memories never leave us ~
ReplyDeleteThe highest praise I can give: I wish I had written that!
ReplyDeleteBittersweet, I feel the remembering, the passion and longing in your poem. I'm reminded of the letters I have stashed away ... loved ones will stumble upon them one day ...(shall I leave a treasure map behind?)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem and I love the still life too.
ReplyDeleteWhat Helen said, and Helen..... oh please DO leave a treasure map!! On my anniversary this year, I found such a box with three anniversary cards from Barry. Joy!! =D
ReplyDeleteThis is so lovely- I discovered some letters between my parents- what treasures.
ReplyDeletelots of nice lines here... oh no! all lines are beautiful...
ReplyDeleteJJRod'z
That third stanza is full of mystery. Really nice work, Tess!
ReplyDeleteOh to be pressed against a tree and kissed... Hmmm... Lovely :)
ReplyDeleteI love this, Tess...it is so very beautiful, not a wasted word and so much history and portent! Exquisite write, dear friend.
ReplyDeleteThis one is astonishing.
ReplyDeleteLove is eternal indeed- Thanks.
ReplyDeleteWhat restrained passion!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written. Love the last stanza.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous words painting a picture of passionate memories.
ReplyDeletei like how you picked up that one of the notes seemed to be accounting
ReplyDeletepainting details
Like a foreign currency... Objects with strange value and their exchange rates. Fantastic.
ReplyDeletesmiles....oh no map necessary...that kind of seed does not stay long in the ground before it blooms so we need only look for the beauty to find it...smiles.
ReplyDeletelovely poem, Tess.. and i must say, these are beautiful lines.. --- "Seeds of passion will sprout roots,
ReplyDeleteand bloom, uninhibited."
take it out and inhale the fragrance...very good.
ReplyDeleteThen I could take my woman to the tree
ReplyDeletebeneath the angels' home, luminescent night
breeze, scented by the stories we once told...
If I were free, yes, if that free
I would mount the wind and love the light
and come apart in joy - if I were bold.
i like what you painted with your words Tess...lovely and thanks again for sharing
ReplyDeleteLove letters from the edge of the scented Ohian ocean.
ReplyDeleteLove so passionate will make the world go round. Two souls blend so well and so sensuously. You've expressed it perfectly, Tess! Great write!
ReplyDeleteHank
I do love the idea of seeds of passion sprouting roots - lovely line.
ReplyDeleteThat wonderful energy of the writer will never be lost...seeds of passion will always sprout!
ReplyDeleteI read your Blog for the first time this morning. I am charmed in the deep meaning of the word. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteDid you know that Authur Christopher Benson, early 20th cen. English author, would bury the many volumes of his diaries, and ocassionally dig them up, re-read them and rebury them? His whole family was filled with that sort of fun. Thank you for your Persephone-like poem. David
I have a box like that (in my mind) and a tree like that. Love the last line.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Seeds of passion, and so many other visions before our eyes ....lovely read!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful turn of phrases!! Fabulous!
ReplyDeleteHugs
SueAnn
...this is exquisite Tess, bravo...
ReplyDeleteI love the poem ... for it's great passion.
ReplyDeleteSeeds of passion will sprout roots,
ReplyDeleteand bloom, uninhibited.
The perfect close, Tess!!! Love freed and growing wild!! Beautiful!
Ah, yes, the fragrance of special things...you capture this so well. Beautiful reading too!
ReplyDeletewonerfully written and gathered. i can see all clearly and take
ReplyDeletein the aroma of the day and that tree.
LOVE this, especially:
ReplyDelete"When my time comes,
I'll listen to Shostakovich,
and bury it beneath the tree
I long to be pressed against and kissed."
Love your take on the photo.
de
whimsygizmo.wordpress.com
I used to work at a savings and loan and always wondered what went on in those little safety deposit booths. Beautiful poetry, Tess.
ReplyDeleteWhen ever I re-read your little profile bio thingy, I am reminded of one of my favorite people, a librarian named June. When asked to speak in public she would carefully enunciate several of her favorite words. Words like perambulate, persnickety, scrumptious, thistle, giddy, nettle, nocturne...
ReplyDeleteShe loved words, and language. She passed away much too soon but I can still hear the eulogies of her friends reading their favorite words at her Memorial.
Poignant piece - delicate and lovely.
ReplyDeleteSuch an apt title for this lovely poem read so beautifully.
ReplyDeleteWholly magnificent - with no more than one sniff!
ReplyDeleteIncredibly expressive, powerful imagery, Willow!
ReplyDeleteA Poetessa of the first order you are! xxx
Just point to the tree, R.A.D. ... *wink*
ReplyDeleteLOVE the reading, Tess. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThis one pulled at my heart-strings. Love it.
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful writing and a lovely poem...
ReplyDeleteThis is enchanting Tess, the Shostakovich just the icing on an already romantic layer cake ...
ReplyDeletehttp://thepoet-tree-house.blogspot.ca/2012/06/love-letters-of-promises-and-regret.html
Many heartfelt thanks for all your kind and generous comments, dear readers ... and a special thank you to R.A.D. Stainforth for making this beautiful recording of my words ...
ReplyDeleteI love the imagery you convey. Lovely work!
ReplyDeleteLove the seeds you planted here...
ReplyDelete=)
Oh my .... I love that!!!!
ReplyDelete