A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Sunday, December 24, 2017

pretty much

You're considerably more beautiful
than would be appropriate, in terms

of the effort it takes to keep my mind
off you. Which is effort

I don't intend to waste. Anyway, who's
to know? Besides,

your freckles

make my eyes ache - constellations
across the milky way

of your face,

which, salt-kissed
and sunblushed, leans down
from above where I lie flat
on my back, having been
pretty much laid out.

In the hushed and closing space
between us sounds an ocean. You
are all I see.

You're amused. Just a touch
of a squint, as if
you could be as dazzled
by your smiling eyes

as I.

Which you could be,
I suppose, if you ever really looked,
and had an ego the size that you looking at me

makes mine.

Days without you are like memory
instead of living. But I know reasons why
it's worthwhile to live them.

The sun is going. The only falling star
we expect to see again,
and I wish on it

daily, except when you're here.

I wish
your seawater sunshine eyes
were there, because even a sunset this beautiful
suffers without its perfect frame:

your face, so all that soft blue glow
and rose glimmer of gold bands
can catch flecks and flickers
in your limpid eyes,

and I could just stand there,
agape

at the world's most beautiful view. And I know,

because I intend to travel that world, and to take
that view with me, with days and nights
flying after each other.

I wish

you were above me here,
shining down now.

I would look up
to the heavens, and see

myself, amazed and reflected in them -

good as eternity.

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