I’d never mark my stamp on you
even if I thought I could
and with lessons drawn
from father’s “tool and die, ”
I know I’ll never try.
That stamping press he used
left only negative impressions,
crushed in carbide steel,
to mark the owner’s brand.
No, I’ll have none of that
I need your free undented souls
To sing both “I” and “we”
in mystic synchronicity:
drawing life from the speckled pages.
But like my father at his lathe,
I’ll ply my studied craft
and bid you do the same with yours
so that you and I
can find our truth among the spots
and, with mysterious synchronicity,
breathe radiant, illimitable life
into the freckled, speckled pages.
June, 2009
An interesting and original poem. Romance with a home grown flavor. I enjoyed reading it all but this part stood out because of the psychological connotation on you can find truth among the spots. But like my father at his lathe, I’ll ply my studied craft and bid you do the same with yours so that you and I can find our truth among the spots and, with mysterious synchronicity, breathe radiant, illimitable life into the freckled, speckled pages. This is great. Thank you for sharing your talent. :)
Accomplished metrics, accomplished meaning-a well-tuned voice, even more seasoned. drb
'Speckled pages' (love it) really hooked me into this brilliant poem that takes the conductor's baton from the score and plays the reader's heart with sublime synchronicity. Your musician's ear beautifully enhances the poems that sing from your soul. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Oh, i love this, Sir Robert..This is great. thanks for this sharing.Take care always and God bless you.Shalom
This one drew me into its mood. Very earthy and warm. I like it very much. Great to read you again. Always your friend, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Robert, this poem is a joy to read. Ron