Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Too Early

Too Early

Quiet, quiet, quiet

I could hear frogs on the golf course this morning

as I tramped home from the bus stop,

your kiss still singing on my lips.

The stars were drifting away,

the moon snoozing on the other side of the globe,

and the sun, still abed,

was turning the East turquoise and gold: byzantine sunrise.

It was too early for the doves to be echoing their two-tone call,

the peacocks were peaceful –

even the mynah birds were not arguing the price of a worm.

Thin mist floated in hollows, pixillating the club greens

and the air almost tasted of the sea.

No dog walkers, no school children,

the local cats huddled away for warmth.

Too early for the workers’ cars, too early for the joggers.

Only the last warmth of your hand in mine

and the bubbling of the frogs

to tell me I’m not alone.

Note:  I wrote this poem before the great slaughter was revealed, so it hardly reflects the current situation, here in er, Paradise.  (See Living in Exile for an explanation)



Martin said...

So many beautiful phrases here, Isabel.

jabblog said...

I thought it sounded a little out of step with current affairs, Isabel. I loved the poem, though - the tingle of love.

Dave King said...

Wow, that brought a few occasions back to me. Lovely words.

Laurie Kolp said...

This is truly beautiful, Isabel.

rallentanda said...

It seems that bad karma in Paradise in both hemispheres is rattling its lethal sword. I hope you feel better soon.Your poem is beautiful an reflects that peaceful time of day . Good one!

Trellissimo said...

I'm huddling for warmth this morning, I can tell you - winter has arrived...

Susannah said...

What beautiful, beautiful writing. It held me enchanted, I loved it!

HyperCRYPTICal said...

Ah Isabel - this brings back memories for me - walking home through the quietness of early dawn with the taste of a kiss on my lips, a smile on my face and an elated heart.

Lovely words!

Anna :o]