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You constantly long
for the right word,
though how could
you ever
be content
with just one-
courting the idea
of a sentence,
a paragraph,
a page,
from the first chapter
through many more
to the end?

This is the romance
you live for now
and perhaps always have,
for your heart
has been stolen
more often
by your imagination
than your reality.

Don’t give up
because your love
is unrequited
and it seems
no one will ever know
how it breathed
as though
nothing else mattered.

Be true
to your calling
and don’t regret
a word of it,
for each one
that comes to you
takes your hand
in hopes
of fitting your vision
and pleasing your voice
like diamonds
forever.        
               ~DM Denton

Visit my Blog:
bardessdmdenton -
prose, poetry & painting

Click on Title of each piece to see complete post ...

Not Divorced from Daffodils

Picture
It might be
she had dreamed up
that courtship,
following an inclination
over such
green and pleasant hills.


To Eire with Love

Picture
I traveled there a woman
and came back a child
with my eyes
full of the clouds
coming over the mountains
so I could never tell
how high they were ...


The Cove

Picture
She wandered away from a dream, not to escape the music but the baking sun and
choking dust ...


The Lavenders

Picture
A sprig on the wrist 
a spell for a plague
is worth two
in the bush
where the Lavenders
lay their cares.


Published on the Collins Poetry Residency Site April 12, 2012


Tears and Sun

Picture
Find me a yellow rose
 in bud and blossom
and withering too ...

Bog Chorus

Picture
If I could send
a clear high note,
then I might
keep my head
and heart afloat.


Up in the Air

Picture
I no longer remember
being undecided
between one place
and another.


A Friend Indeed

Picture
O, the wild constancy
of the brave chickadee
simply changing his tune
like the man in the moon
for the tilt of the sky
as the seasons
pass by.


Cats Between the Lines

Picture
Cats must be there. Even as I wander long ago and faraway, they
follow me, rub my legs, curl on my bed and beg my attention without disturbing it.


Wrestling with Love

Picture
The rug was a rink
in front of the fire,
it’s design hooked
in roses and thorns.

Too Many Tales

Picture
We waded into a sea of faces masked in markings of black and white, gray and ginger, eyes shining through from a galaxy all their own. There were jewels in each look, some sparkling, others sadder from losing their luster.

Published in the Buffalo News April 7, 2012

© Copyright 2012 DM Denton. All rights reserved.


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