A Little Poem

Poet's picture

sleeping wife

Have you noticed that poets celebrate young love? How many poems celebrate middle aged parents in love? In the spirit of Karezza, may I offer this one?

Saturday Morning

Sunlight creeps softly around the blind
A feathery silence wrapped around the house
Saturday morning

A ray catches the curve of your sleeping cheek
My eyes trace the line of your shoulder
Time stands still

Then, creaking stairs
Cartoons from the family room
The day has started

My wife totally doesn't get this, but she is most beautiful in the morning, with her hair a little tousled and her nightie akimbo. I love the look in her sleepy eyes and the quietness between us. That's when I lean over and whisper, "You're beautiful." She doesn't believe me. When she has her face on and every hair in place, I have to make an effort to remember to comment on how good she looks. But in the soft light of morning, I really feel it.

Comments

Marnia's picture

*sigh*

It's a lovely poem. I'm going to try to find an image (or you may suggest one), and move it to the front page.

That "quietness" has a lot to do with how beautiful she looks. Our inner state colors our perception way more than we realize. It's the key to staying in love, actually.

JRsun76's picture

nice poem

its pretty