Tag Archives: Marriage

Recluse

People drain, push through
boundaries, demand attention.
Childhood reclused with book after book
reading to the exclusion of most else,
an interior life but for the
vibrancy of a sunset, the thrill
of abstraction in flowing water
and then, at seventeen,
the bright blue art of your eyes.
The world and you, my love, stimulate
refresh, make me whole
give me myself once more.

 

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

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The things you have said

At seventeen you said,
You know I really think a lot of you
Well, you haven’t hit me yet
Dear Miss Whysall, but we’ll soon out a stop to that
Do you know how to call a waiter to the table?

At twenty one you said,
I sleep with a woman who sleepwalks Mars
Will you marry me?
I think you should go away to Oxford to realise your dream
Can we see the poverty stricken student line of engagement rings?

And so it has continued
and so I love you

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

A soppy love poem for my Cheese seller. It’s his birthday today!

Global

She flies in to a land below the sluice gates
under leaden  wintry skies
braving bone chilling, joint stiffening cold
to regain a lover and husband,
surprising family and friends
with a festive presence.
He cossets her adoringly
treasuring the time they are together
sharing memories of a hot Penang wedding  a world away
that celebrated a fealty lasting across oceans and years.
Tenderness and  connubiality,
happiness built on avocations and contrasts.
Cherishing time together with all those they love
partaking companionably
endearing us all to them.
Soon, she will travel back
to the other side of the planet
to summer heat and extended family
that now stretches globally
to a tall Dutchman.

 

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

For Nesa and Edgar

 

Time

I have loved you for so long
That the moon has moved measurably in its orbit
Islands have grown, jungles fallen
Empires have been toppled
I loved you as a youth
And now at the apogee of your prime
I love you still

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged for Valentines Day

Husbandry

He talks to chickens
Sometimes with their own sounds
Otherwise in English
Discussing the state of the hen house
The undesirability of chickens entering the house
And pooping on our elderly carpet

They themselves have their own opinions
Apparently
The availability of fresh greens in their diet
The joy of scratching about on the shingle path
The delightful crunchiness of dried meal worms
When I suggest that the girls take part in family decisions
In order to address the gender imbalance
I am rejected
They have their own forum
Talking with my husband each day
True husbandry

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

For Tony….

Your Eyes

It is your eyes that pierce me
Bright baby blue
In Sicily they marked you
Erroneously
As German
In Jordan, both men and girls followed you
Hoping to see your wonderful eyes again
It is your eyes that hold me
Windowing your soul
In your much loved face

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

For my love, and part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘Face’.