
“The Father’s Forgiveness” by Daniel Bonnell
broadcast affection
touch your lips to the cruel
who never knew love
From my books Pieces of Wine and Riverthink
“The Father’s Forgiveness” by Daniel Bonnell
broadcast affection
touch your lips to the cruel
who never knew love
From my books Pieces of Wine and Riverthink
“Forest Glade by Walter Boodle
forever ago
I carved my infinity
into the knee of a tree
and the woods came alive
with hurt whispers of why
and an everlast promise
they’d never forget
my brief passage
no need of my sign
to remind them
we shared an
affection
(originally posted December 2013)
Print by Will Ford
he climbed the split rails
she approached with stately gait
tossed her fine blazed head
the chestnut red dun
playfully nuzzled his neck
he tousled her mane
their wordless language
eye and touch corresponding
trusty affection
mounting her saddle
her sixteen-hands carried him
off to adventure
so tired of wasting affection
nothing I do seems to matter
every sunrise to sunset
rain or shine or black flies
I sit on the grass calling out
give my best pleading howl
I promise them love
never snarl or chew shoes
but no one responds
so what am I doing here
why did they choose me
just days after weaning
they seem nice enough
but a few pats and rubs
after dinner is all
they seem willing to give
with this collar, this bowl and
this damned rattling chain
nothing I do seems to matter
so tired of wasting affection
there are days
I miss the nose
her soft nuzzle
the gentle rasp
of affection her
tongue on my
wakening skin
there are days
I miss the close
companionship
miming my shadow
walks where I walk
rests where I rest
breathing my air
there are days
I miss the eyes
watching me
watch the world
never tiring of
the mink feel
of fur to my hand
there are days
I miss the love
we exchanged
eighteen years
countless moments
of genuine
mutual pleasure
there are days
I can’t bear
to remember
you created me
out of thin air
where I drifted
unpurposed
misled by my
eyes filled with
improbabilities
you inhaled me
infused your
elixir my
heartbeats gained
sweet scented
cadence in clutch
of your lungs
you forgave me
for thinking
I already
understood life
made me whole
with your half
of forever
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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