A pebble, among so many others.
A night, hidden by the darkness of life.
Your breath beside me,
’til death shall chide me,
and bring sweet passion to memories dear.
For in that wash of times,
beyond kaleidoscopes and chimes,
lives a beauty so calm,
within mem’ries of psalm,
that I shall always hold you near.
Do you not know, sweet Lee Anna,
that your pebble sparkles alone
in my sea of colorless blur?
Blessed you, dear one,
for this aged heart has lived its full
solely on the presence of yours.
Love is ‘ner a word to share
the lifetime of owed devotion.
Nay, ’tis mine to rest upon.
Close your eyes, dearest,
stretch your fingers through the stars
and touch my memory tonight.
© 2014 John Allen Richter
A love poem, by me?….. truly a rarer sight than Whitman’s thrush. It then must not a love poem be, but rather an ode to the dearness of memory. This one devoted to Lee Anna, a woman who long ago touched my heart and has been in my memory since….
A quick shout to friend and colleague Brian Miller, whose father has taken ill…. Thinking of you Brian…