He Wasn’t a Poet 

He Wasn’t a Poet 

by Carolyn Glackin

He wasn’t a poet, no
Nor was he a writer
In fact, he was known to be
A man of very few words
But he was kind and gentle
Loving and patient
Handsome and noble…
And, he had the bluest eyes
She’d ever seen…
She was the talker and the writer
He showed her his love in quieter ways
Flowers for no reason
Her favorite treats when she hadn’t asked
And all sorts of other little gestures
In his arms, she felt safe and adored
Gazing into his eyes, she glimpsed eternity
And no matter how much time passed between them
When he kissed her, an internal fire was ignited
A fiery passion was kindled
And their spirits soared
Floating into the ethers
Melding into oneness
Joining in the most sacred of ways
And so it was between them
She the talker and writer
He the thinker and doer
Doing their own thing
BEing fully themselves
Appreciating their differences
Two integral parts of a whole
Each complete in their own right
Living, loving, and laughing
For all time.

*Artwork by Freydoon Rassouli  


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