Oh, the snow....

Hello, again.

I know what you might be thinking, 'Did she write a poem today?'

No, I didn't write a poem, but it did snow in London. Quite a lot for the city, in fact, over the last two days and moments of my day have been quite poetic enough for this, the 1st December.

The holidays really are here--and when I say the holidays, I really mean my birthday, the countdown begun. I can't help but think of my birthday and snow as two peas in a pod. Sure, when I was little I yearned for the pool party, the popsicles, the summers running around in the sun (credit to my parents, I did get an un-birthday party in June once. It was a blast!).

But then, I wouldn't have the snow. Or ice skating. Or memories of hot chocolate and piling into the peach mobile to go look at all the Christmas lights around little ol' Yreka with all my pre-teen friends.

I can't help it, I was giddy today that it was December. Hello, birthday month. Hello, holidays. Hello, snow and hot chocolate and the end-of-the-year reflections. Another season has passed, another year older. And, another white winter in London Town.

Poem #30 - A Sonnet

Well, today is the final day of November. A full month of poetry and as I looked back through the blog archive over the last 29 poems, I've realized how quickly and slowly the month has gone. So much has happened: newlywed poems, a friend's wedding, my cousin's birthday, writer's block, dirty haiku, and untranslatable words.

My poetry partner in crime, sasqi, also messaged me tonight to mark this eve of departure into the rest of our poetic lives. With it, she sent today's poem, a beautiful moving sestina.

Tonight, I took her cue again with a form poem. I found myself struggling to sit down and actually write (a month of poems is HARD, my mind said, and the dishes had been waiting for days...), but then realized, again, what to write about?

One of my message over this month with sasqi checking in on our poetic adventure was about how I was grateful for its timing. For me, it's been a year of celebrating my love and commitment for and to another person. Our second and final (?) wedding was in October and by the time the first of November came around, I found myself wanting only to write of her and my love for her.... *sigh*

Of course, as you know, I didn't write sappy love poems all month. But it did feel appropriate to end this project with a form poem historically dedicated to love: the sonnet.

Without much more ado then, I give you a love sonnet. First though, one more thing: I don't know yet if I'll keep writing a poem a day from December 1st onward, but I'm sure glad I did in November. And, I like writing to you again so check back here tomorrow.

Sonnet #30

Waking up beside you looks like all this:

your sweet face hidden by a quilt cover;

eyelids closed in absolute blissfulness;

a kiss waiting on your lips, my lover.

Rising in the morning with you brings such

joy for the day's possibilities that I

can hardly contain songs from my lips much

or from snuggling back into you beside.

But this is only the briefest of times.

Then the day stretches out before us--

away from the lands of duvets the clock chimes

and the hours become our heard chorus.

Still, my love, my sweetheart, my one darling,

there is always the song of the starlings.*

*Poetic inspiration to ee cummings and Josh Ritter

Late Night Writing (Monday)

I won't lie, given how I make my schedule, I do a lot of my writing in the evenings, sometimes from bed. And when inspiration gets tight and I'm without a prompt, sometimes it's the nearest object to me that makes it onto the page (just the first stanza).

I want to tell you about my bed:

the pine frame and mattress came with the flat,

the pillows were airmailed express

having been selected for perfection

a few years prior. But the bedding, it's new.

Writer's Block

or, otherwise, how to split my time:

How do I

split my time

between you, dear reader,

my first love,

and the one with whom

I share my bed,

our home,

the dreams and

silly things,

my her?

Decorating for a Birthday Party

On Saturday, my love and I baked cupcakes for a friend's birthday and traversed south London by bus and by train with a dozen birthday balloons to decorate the flat for the party.

The very shape of balloons is tantalizing.

The way the light reflects and bounces

as the orb responds to the currents

of conversations, the draft of the door.

After the Vintage Shops

On Friday, while malls across the US were ensconced in Black Friday mayhem, my sis-in-law and I hit up the vintage shops in Covent Garden. I very nearly bought an XL blue and yellow plaid men's shirt because it reminded my dad, and stealing his shirts to wear when I was little.

There are certain days

when I just want to throw on

a blue plaid shirt or a white

tank top and call it good.

Thanksgiving

A day of baking and eating

I took the day off from writing

and reflected upon

where the years have gone

since I was home last...