to tell you how much
I love the cup of coffee
you bring me every morning
and the way you warm my icy feet
on cold nights
to say how much I enjoy
the nights we sit together
not saying a word
just allowing a moment for a smile
or a quick kiss
I wanted you to know
I’m listening
even when I only seem
to nod my head
and ask you to light the fires
and bring out the trash
I wanted my words
to be more than bills
and timetables
and the endless list
of daily chores and plans
to show you how much
I choke on the guilt
that follows the anger
that spurts from my deviant mouth
when things, as they often do
don’t go to plan
I wanted you to know
how I believe in us
and the future we’re still forming
to tell you how I feel
each argument brings us closer
and that nothing is easy to begin with
and that I have faith and patience
in who we can be
when the screaming matches
lose their vigour
and the battle of wits subsides
but the words keep
getting tangled
around my fingers
and I’m just not sure
you’re ready
to hear them
While this brought a flashback of the mid-sixties for me, when I had my first time in the great big USA and everyone was into Rod McKuen, the poem quickly got my attention. Very nicely done. Also the 'bring' out the trash is clever, hinting at your location. H
Sheila....he's ready to hear them...or read them. Share this with him. Check out my 'Gusts of You' - kind of along the same lines...a new relationship...of uncharted territory for me. Hugs....and happy new year.
Delightful Sheila, a lovely read and write. Very meaningful and warm. Love Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I don't understand why this poem didn't rate higher. I love it....but, instead of keeping it to yourself...I'd totally tell him, whether you think he's ready or not. Who on earth wouldn't be ready for such kind words. High marks from me! ! ! ! !