Friday, April 25, 2008

Confiserie Delicés

for Sarah

Returning to New York

from France, encumbered

with all your old and new

clothes, paraphernalia, art

supplies, and souvenirs,

you thought of us, and

brought us dark chocolate

pralines. We’ve savoured

each one, (and in true Heveron

tradition, one petite piece remains).

We also thought of you,

exploring old Europe,

learning the fine points of

French, the customs, attitudes,

and anecdotes you’ll remember

forever in your mind.

We envisioned you laughing

in Paris, like Audrey

Hepburn in Sabrina.

Someday you will tell your

stories – (l’intrigue!), show

your sketches, -- (le croquis!),

write un mémoire merveilleux

of that notable year. I would

love to know which moment

stands out in your mind, like

a framed old photograph,

which speaks to your soul.

I know that you accomplished

something huge, and amazing.

And I know you kept our love

in your pocket, like a lucky

worn coin. And when you

came back, with a slightly

new smile on your face,

you gave us sweet chocolate.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Aural Love

Sometimes it’s not

what you say --it

is only your voice

that I hear.

And it is not

my deafness or

poor listening skills.

It is just that the sound

of your voice is enough.

Yes --you are right.

I am writing this

about you! I am

a visual learner,

but an aural lover.

I adore the sound of

your voice. I shiver

in the hills and valleys

of your tonal range.

Your words thrill

like fireflies in the

celestial regions

of my brain.

Then, gone!

I can not capture

or hold them –

nor would I.



I’m closing

my eyes.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Poem for Mystie the Cat

You ponder the placement

of a patch of fresh sunlight.

You pounce and capture

its heat; own it’s place

for awhile.

Then your warm little

body leaps onto my lap.

And I wish you long life--

even longer than mine,

though I know that’s


I let go of these


like falling-down sand

through a child’s open


You settle in to


pure and soundly


You have pondered

all there is;

there is only one


It rises up high in

the morning,

Then bows out softly

when it's done.