Well I have to tell you that I fell in love with Charleston. And I fell in love with my husband, well duh, and it all started in Charleston. So I really do have an incredible love affair with this city. I might love almost everything about it. The way it smells, like a city dipped in salt and sea, drying out on the edge of this Lowcountry region which I call hone. The way it looks, with steeple upon steeple reaching up through the sticky humid air. Always heavenward. The holy city. The homes and gardens which I find myself staring at like a young girl with a high school crush. The little bit of bustle which reminds me of Europe and a Southern New York CIty rolled into one small charming city that feels more like a town.
And poetry. And books. And very old things. In Charleston. Well put them in a pot of goodness and you have some yummies for my Southern born and bred heart and soul.
Today I am honored to be at Tweetspeak Poetry with a piece I wrote for their Literary Tour column. Come see what I write about and help keep me company over there.
You are cordially invited. And I promise to roll out a little Southern Hospitality. I might get a little lonely away from my home here. So come visit and leave a comment.
Follow me over there for my words at Tweetspeak Poetry. Click here. Oh you already knew that. Thanks friends.
I am honored and humbled to be with such a warm community. You will like it too if you have never been.
You did not miss the mark
The feather-tipped arrow of your release
It did not fail to land
In the right spot, spot on
A bullseyed penetration
Drilling through the target
Seen by eyes of love.
Sitting on the counter
To open up
rsvp my intent
And begin the ritual
Tradition washes over me with sticky memory
And sweet my taste buds eagerly await
Weigh the choice of
All alone or mixed with cream
Perhaps thrown on a bed of greens
The remembering is the beauty halved
Of the ripe flesh and soft warm skin
I peel back to find the gift and enter in the dance
Peach and I
Our summer can begin
We cannot hurry
Nor can we wait
In blinks and nods and a few short days
September will arrive
And memories of sweet ripe fruit
Will dance alone
Like visions of summers past rolling around in my mind, a dream
Of days in the past
So I must eat a peach
And savor all that is ripe and good
And ready for the picking
These are the days
These are the hours
Of grateful living
Peach and I, I and Peach
Our summer has begun.
A Blue Thread
Or I followed it
On the way
To Blue Bicycle Books
Everything was shades of blue
Cars behind at red lights
Who knew they made dump trucks
In front he lead me down Highway 17
And then I crossed the bridge
Under a canopy of blue
With white monstrous clouds waiting to release
And hit the sidewalk like a blue streak
The storefronts presented me with blue
And I wondered if this occurs everday
This theme of beauty
Threads through a day
Some days it is red and others gold
And greens of summer, water’s aqua too
If I would look in front behind and closer
At this one life
That like the two young men on the news
Not yet at the age I am
Could end like that
And have it all just stop
Out of the blue.