Monday, November 16, 2015

A Secret Sparkle


 
    A Secret Sparkle

There is a secret sparkle
to quicken soon
into life
into a living thing
nudging.

A knowledge of change
starts with a startled blink.

A knowledge of loss
limits who might be told
for now, briefly, as science brews
a human being.

All the while small details
become more and more real
as thoughts stir and curiosity
takes hold.

What color will her eyes be
and her hair- will it curl,
will it glint in the sun.

Who will her features echo
as time folds touching ancestors
and marriages and mingling
reaching back into forever.

Will she have my grandmother's
hazel eyes, or my daughter's
dark brown
or my dad's deep cerulean,
or her father's green grey blue.

A small speck
a sparkle, if luck holds,
a secret soon to swell
into wonderfully obvious
and alive- and adorable.



poem copyright ©2015 Anne Selden Annab

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The Architect's Garden



   The Architect's Garden

Purpley blue geranium
by the round stone terrace
by the house
in the back garden
watched
by a blue eyed cat.

From far above the garden shape
would be an open door.

Tall stucco garden walls with barely
visible vertical apertures for air
and a long low horizontal gap
giving small creatures
bunny, chipmunk, bird
incentive to come and go
gleaning beauty.

Only the back garden gate
seals tight, and the house
with its many windows
and that bright blue eyed cat
purrs as Elsie Louise
in the lightest blue
entertains.

She is sky
with a lion's mane
still gold in the right light.
An old stone farmhouse
and thousands of good books
built who she is now
transplanted to town
perfecting summer
on a teacher's salary.


                  poem copyright ©2015 Anne Selden Annab