Yes

Yes!




Despite the race against time
I say yes to this little moment
Of tenderness

It becomes a lifetime of memory

My pen glides
Against the smooth white paper
Of poetry and words

It becomes my work of a lifetime

My green fingers
Say yes to this garden
Of trees, shrubs and herbs

It becomes my solace and hideaway

My heart, will and soul
Say yes to this embrace
Welcoming him to my space

He becomes my other self

A buffer against the many reasoned 'No'



________________________




18 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Thanks Janu. I guess this sums up what is important to me. A good self wake-up call.

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  2. YES! This is my favorite of your poems! I so love it.

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  3. Thank you Sherry - another one of my self automode written poems, I almost had nothing to do with it!

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  4. smiles...there is some simple beauty in it much like time spent in that garden...smiles.

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    Replies
    1. My garden gave me many memories...thanks, Brian.

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  5. I love the stanza from "my green fingers". Your automode is on point!

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    Replies
    1. Dear Kat,
      In the garden, I am also on auto mode sometimes. Oblivious to everything else, the garden is my best destress therapy.

      I still did not find your cat!

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  6. Replies
    1. And your Don Quixote is a real treat, Michael.

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  7. i got the most wonderful book in the mail today!!!! smiles.

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    Replies
    1. I am so relieved it finally reached you. I have been wondering.

      Hope you enjoy it.

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  8. Good response to those sneaky "no's"

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    Replies
    1. Oh yes, my other self keeps me sane.

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  9. When i read thru your post.. it crossed my mind that you were really writing about what is important to you.. minus the little one perhaps..

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  10. The little one is there, right in the first stanza. This poem was written immediately after Ilena gve me a very tender goodnight kiss for 'the best Mum in the whole world!' She was having a slight fever, and as such was being pampered big time.

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  11. I loved it! Stunning elements portray your view~

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  12. Thank you Ella. I am humbled because it was just a little poem straight from the heart.

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