Just working on these in private
\nby cricketjeff on March 2, 2009.\u00a0 \u00a9 Jeff Green, All rights reserved
\n This is possibly a competition entry so cannot be published yet but I
\n find it easier to correct and polish poems I see on screen
\n\u00a0
\n\u00a0
\nDewdrops \u00a0
\nEach evening since he met her she had tucked herself away;
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A special gift her Grandmother had said.
\nThe soft cold gold inspired her and she knew just what to say,
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 With pen in hand the words were in her head.
\nEach word she wrote was from her heart and every line was true;
\nThe rich blue ink rolled from the nib as fresh as morning dew.<\/p>\n
The summer dance where first they kissed was set down on a page,
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The way he held her turned to gentle rhyme.
\nThe words she wrote that evening seemed to say she’d come of age
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And she would dance with him for all of time.
\nA waltz of words cascaded from the love that she now knew,
\nHer poetry was sweeter than an April morning’s dew.<\/p>\n
The day he knelt before her with a ring that shone with fire
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Became a crown of sonnets overnight.
\nHer Grandma’s pen recorded every nuance of desire,
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Those verses seemed to fill her mind with light.
\nThe gift to paint your lifetime is accorded to so few,
\nAnd fewer still record it with the gleam of mountain dew.<\/p>\n
Their wedding day was rain-swept but the sun was in her heart
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And not a cloud obscured her poetry.
\nThe pen again transcribed it and it took an active part
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It changed her words to perfect harmony.
\nTradition says a bride must wear a single thing that’s blue
\nA sapphire broach from Grandma’s box that spoke of falling dew.<\/p>\n
The midwife held the baby while she sat and wrote in bed,
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The day their first born daughter came to stay.
\nAnother page of magic told of all that would be said,
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And all the times the two of them would play.
\nThe rolled gold nib just seemed to know the love that would ensue
\nAnd helped her turn her feelings into meadows kissed with dew.<\/p>\n
Just two more years before their son the image of his dad
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Was set down in her round and loving hand
\nThe pen responded sweetly and she knew that it was glad
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her family was now completely scanned
\nShe sighed in satisfaction and her writing gave a clue
\nShe saw the world as hedgerows that were dressed in crystal dew<\/p>\n
The dreadful day her husband died the pen was laid aside
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No longer felt the need to sit and write
\nShe bound her leather notebooks and she waited for the tide
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That told her that her life was nearing night
\nEach morning now was empty and the rain beat a tattoo
\nNo longer could she see each day beneath its shining dew<\/p>\n
Her daughter’s daughter visited and brought a smiling man
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And then the pen was writing in her mind
\nA special gift was handed from a very loving Nan
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Another generation had to find
\nThe words to tell the future that each day was bright and new
\nAnd love can make each moment seem a rose that’s crowned with dew.
\n\u00a0
\n\u00a0
\n\u00a0
\n\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Just working on these in private by cricketjeff on March 2, 2009.\u00a0 \u00a9 Jeff Green, All rights reserved This is possibly a competition entry so cannot be published yet but I find it easier to correct and polish poems I see on screen \u00a0 \u00a0 Dewdrops \u00a0 Each evening since he met her she had […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":9721,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-3655","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3655","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3655"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3655\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7852,"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3655\/revisions\/7852"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/9721"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/nicewaistcoat.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3655"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}