December 24, 2005



  •  


    draft - no title, but


    it's for bird, who be-muses me so well, 
    on Christmas Eve, 2005


    Forgetting the nature
    Of those of us
    Whose childhood
    Was left out in the rain,  
    I opened
    To your torn heart,
    A tired flower 
    With a fresh cut stem,
    Living carefully
    In a simple glass
    Of sweetened water,
    I bloomed,
    Temporarily,
    Remembering 
    All the new roses
    In my grandma's yard
    When I was small,
    And every day was rain.


     


    pearlbamboo


    copyright  e.p. hodges  

Comments (12)

  • Have a Merry Christmas!  Look forward to reading more of your writings this coming year.  Nancy

  • A very lovely draft. Wish you a great holiday Lily...

  • Wishing you a wonderful holiday and new year!

  • Great draft, which to me seems pretty much complete.. I have missed you!
    Call me whenever you like.
    Love you.

    Peace and Love:)

    Merry Christmas!!!

  • Very nice, Lily. Have a Merry Christmas. Your Chicago pal, Lynn

  • Since you've taken me off your protected post, perhaps because you disagreed with some of my comments, perhaps for other reasons, I really think I should probably not even be here, but nevertheless, merry christmas to you,

  • Simply beautiful. So poignant. I hope you're having a lovely holiday season and that you are feeling warm and surrounded by love.

  • I think it's a great draft. There is a wonderful symbolism in it.

  • awesome in it's simple beauty

  • Well, I don't know if you changed it since I first read it.  But I think you did.  I like it now and it may just be the mood I'm in.  That's to remind you that people drift in and out of here in different moods and that the only person whose opinion counts is you.  But anyway, I got to the last two lines and I got confused.  You mean like those new roses in the rain, you'll get pummeled?

  • I forgot to say how much I liked this: 

    I opened
    To your torn heart,
    A tired flower 
    With a fresh cut stem,
    Living carefully
    In a simple glass
    Of sweetened water,
    I bloomed,
    Temporarily

    I wouldn't call that any rough draft.

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