Her, Poetry

As I continue my sabbatical from posting new writing, over the next weeks and months, I will share with the GDG some of my favorites from the past years or some that have been well-received along the way.  Of all my poems posted on Word Press, this one, originally posted at Poet’s Corner, has been by far the most well-received.  It is an older poem, written many, many years ago… perhaps even as far back as the ’90s, but the carbon dating program on my computer is off for repair… instead of speculating about seemingly insignificant facts, please read this oldie but goodie, Wolfman Jack!

Her, Poetry

I do not write poems for her,
true,
she completes the poem.
Words cannot replace
her presence.
Emotions inspired
by our love
told by the twinkling
wealth of night.

I do not write poetry for her,
true,
she lives the poetry of life.
Words cannot explain
her presence.
My warmth,
the fire she lights.
The fire she feeds,
her smile.

8 thoughts on “Her, Poetry

  1. Pingback: Her, Poetry – The Militant Negro™

  2. one of the most tender poems from you Stephen, it’s almost like a song with a melody of it’s very own. i especially like “she lives the poetry of life”, isn’t our lives just like that, poetry in motion, every act a stanza we repeat on loop so very often. I look forward to more writing like this.

    Liked by 1 person

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