for spring to well up

Life seems to me a day -- a week, perhaps -- in February

Do you know what that is?

It's the first line of a poem I wrote back in February 2006. It was a poem to someone in free verse (I didn't try to rhyme anything with February).

And I can't remember more of it than that. Except the theme (you know how, when it's kind of a warm day for February and you're walking past the Cannon Center, sometimes you can feel a breeze that, while not really warm, still hints of impending spring? And how sometimes when you're slogging through a separation from your beloved, just the thought of them can make you smile and look forward to the future you know will come? That's the theme).

Oh, and I think the last line might have been, "You bring heaven to my life" because why not. I was as embarrassed by the sentimentality then as I am now, but I at least liked that poem better than the other one I sent, which was about chocolate eyes. Eyes the color of chocolate, I hasten to clarify.

I've written a few poems in my day. I was going to post them all today but realized I'd either posted them already or they're about autumn. (Or both.) And while I love autumn, I just don't feel like posting about it right now. I'll try to remember in a few months.

There is one poem. It's not about autumn. I wrote it in August 2011 (it's so easy to remember!) and I love it. Mostly. I recognize that it's a little silly and I'd hate to hear what poetry analysts would say, but I'm going to share it anyway.

I know 'tis not a fair display
To hold to fortune-teller's say
Or make a bulwark star-seen wish
With skies awash in stars as fish.
But life and thee combine to prove
That trusting us to make our love
Has not made happiness as real
As studying the apple peel
Or blowing dandelion fluff
Our efforts cannot be enough.
So while our hearts reach out in vain
A hope in fate I will retain.

Unlike above, this poem was not sent to someone, nor does it specifically refer to anyone (except for when it does). Previously it had been untitled but upon pondering I am liking the title, "Sooth".

And it's metaphorically the story of my life.

[Title text: "Stray Italian Greyhound"]