On the shelf above the crackling fire,
the day’s work over, shadows swaying and flickering
across the room, in the firelight’s glow;
here is love abiding
On the shelf above the crackling fire
a few slim books, some of them poetry, some of them signed;
open them and the world spills out
tumbles laughing and crying, shouting
like children home from school with stories;
like grandparents reminiscing over photos with a smile;
like the last of the night’s pillow talk
one already eyes closed, the other treasuring thought
On the shelf above the crackling fire
two bookends hold the books in place
pressing lightly against each other
as two lovers walking through a door, a gate, from here to there
one bookend’s image we know well
familiar to us from the books
How little we know, of that other bookend
without which, without whom,
there might not be these books, lightly pressing
on the shelf above love’s glow
It's sweet. And I love the description of what can be found in a book of poems. God, I wish for books like that! Or for the eyes/mind/heart to unlock more of them.
this is so beautiful! ... and a wonderful tribute to Mary and her man.
Oh My Gosh Michael! You have me fighting back the tears! This is so.........beautiful! I have never been so moved. Thank you Michael, with all my heart. Sincerely, Mary
This is beautiful, Michael - I love the gentle repetition throughout. Warmest regards, CJ
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I know Mary will appreciate this one no end, it's a lovely tribute to a great couple. Sincerely Ernestine