I think there is a theme developing here! An exploration of negative space á la poesy. Today it’s suggested we write a love poem without ever using the word “love” or employing any hackneyed phrases associated thereof. Here goes:
He Muses Me
I can’t resist his Tigger soul
it peers out a six-decade face,
boy-eyes brimming with glee
and joie de vivre, when
on any given morning
he BOuNCes out of bed
to bring me coffee ‑ Alpha
male, with all the charm
and heartache that entails,
but he laughs at my jokes
and spits pebbles at my feet
because we both fancy penguins.
One year, for some anniversary,
I named a star for us.
On clear nights, as we stand in the driveway
arms around each other, he points
to the faint palpitation of our distant sun
and I think of photons traveling millions of miles
to reach our eyes or how entangled quanta
synchronize instantaneously across the universe.
It isn’t so strange our lives entwined
creating a mysterious whole
the sum of our parts.
©2015 Christine Irving