He has arrived,
wiping the snowmelt upon the Welcome mat
and welcome he is,
handing me a bouquet of daisies,
stepping past the threshold.
A tendril of warmth
slides from my fingertips
throughout my being.
I turn to let them know
that he has arrived,
the man of our brief hour,
with a radiant smile and pastel blue eyes.
I find them in the living room
waiting patiently for him to come,
beaming, I announce that
‘ He has arrived!’
If you have not already figured out, this poem is about spring. Originally, I actually had the word spring in there a lot and then scaled it down so that the only time it was left was at the very end. However, as I was typing in up here I wanted to keep that idea of Spring being that gentlemanly guest all the way. And, I think that with the title and with the content one knows I am talking about spring but also still gets this image of perhaps an actual man stopping by to see his girlfriend and meet the family. Let me know though what you think the best choice of words would be? If you were faced with the choice of leaving in the word spring or switching it out, what would you have done? And thank you as always for reading and sharing your thoughts and feedback.
” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”