When asked at Sunday Scribblings to write on the word “intense,” I knew exactly where I would go… to Riley.
FOR AS MUCH
For as much as her first movement within me
(like a flickering tub toy gone off in my stomach)
made me realize I was actually pregnant;
For as often as I ran to the bathroom
to relieve the heaves of morning sickness;
For as few times as her father bothered
to help me ride the subway to La Maze classes;
For as big as I got, flouting my expanding tummy
and allowing total strangers to lay hands on me,
connecting with her movements;
For as hard as it was getting stuck in a backwoods outhouse
only to be rescued by two Boy Scouts,
who undoubtedly had the best story around that night’s campfire;
For as bad as the lemon-lime Gatorade looked,
both going in and splashing out into the waiting bucket
until I agreed to the shot of Valium…
For all these things,
nothing could compare me for the intensity
of my love for my newborn child.
Even today, taller than I, she appears in my mind’s eye
a bundle of brown-eyed sweetness
wrapped in a blanket of promise and wonder.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Our prompt at Three Word Wednesday was to create a poem using these three words: fragile, rampart, tremor
FRAGILE TREMOR
She seems invulnerable, so this was inevitable
The strongest fortress cannot hold its ramparts forever;
so the toughest girl on the block
cannot hold back the torrential reign of love
For beneath her crunchy exterior
lies a fragile veneer
covering a heart of molten chocolate
And now comes a presence
A murmur
A whisper of change breezing through her being
A tremble, a tremor, then
a collapse of her carefully maintained façade
She’s hopelessly heartfelt
More than a smidgen smitten
Finally fallen
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Jingle Poetry asked for a love and romance poem. Here’s the best I have to give you – a take on love found, lost, found, lost… yet permanent. Amy
INTERTWINED
You recall that fall
the two of us, soul to soul
Wholly ourselves
if only for that moment
Now you’re safe
in your comfort zone
She thinks she is the only one
And that you yourself hung the moon
While I hang around here awaiting what where how when, pondering then
I whisper in your heart, stroking your memory
tenderly drawing you back to me
Our love happened
because nothing else could
Flesh upon flesh
the heart of the matter
smattering of promises we knew were loving lies
And now here’s your life: organized, precise, clockwork
Mine the jumble of a funny, frantic existence
Yet there remains the magnetic, eclectic tug
pulling you back to me
across miles of untouchable roadblocks
Our lives forever tangled, intertwined
Even apart, forever you’re mine
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Written for the “Envision” prompt at Writer’s Island, my Saturday hangout. Peace, Amy
HEAVENVISION
Unthinkably vast
Earthly limitations banished
Swirling channels of gold
Soft, dry, enveloping
The comforting experience of a universe
you never recognized, yet never left
The essence of your spirit
breaks through an eggshell membrane
Penetrating a place that is not a place
but a pool, ocean, sea, sky
constellation of love and nothing more
Picture love’s embrace
in a place called Eternity
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
ROUND AND ROUND WE GO (haiku)
Look me in the eye
Tell me again and again
I’ll listen all night
Speak those words of love
words that drew me to your side
and shine in my heart
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN
I caught a glimpse of it, once
That shining “city on a hill”
Neither city nor hill
but neverending beauty the color of
champagne, equally intoxicating
but with neither hangover nor regret
I caught a glimpse of where we’re going
It shines, it glistens, it listens
Neither here nor there
but everywhere there is love
given freely and without precondition
and neither bought nor sold
I caught a glimpse when I needed faith
I cried out and was answered
Not with words nor with angels
but the feeling of arms about me
cherishing me for myself alone
and me with nothing to give but thanks
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
READY FOR A ROWDY REUNION
Driving for days, crossing America
to see her
Once my baby, now herself
Visiting friends on the road
Taking my time
Knowing at this journey’s end
We will be together again
Hugs so hard
Laughing, crying, ready for anything
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Poetic Asides prompt. This is what happens when you spend three hours at Barnes and Noble, sipping cappuccino and reading Pablo Neruda love poems!
THE MEANING OF SILK STOCKINGS
Shiny satin garter belts with buttons and clasps
The sexiest, most alluring of fashion details
Stockings that slack a bit during the day
reminding her of their silky selves undercover
Tantalizing tug of war under her skirt
She never knew sensuality until she abandoned L’eggs
and smoothed sheer silk over
sturdy, smoothly shaved legs
Rolling the first carefully over calf and thigh
Easing the hem over the button
latching it securely, then
the other leg, this time more slowly
Later, on the dance floor, he hand on her hip
His eyes flash and she knows that he knows
What’s in store for the rest of the evening
It makes the wait agonizing bliss
He carefully eases the dress off, purring
with the subtle confidence of a true lover
His delight in the details of her undergarments
His appreciation of her shape, her way
Finding the treasure beneath
first teasing, pleasuring, then
slowly, cautiously unwrapping her
an undulating, whispering bundle of lace and linen
No awkward peeling back of pantyhose
She is old-school, The Book of Betty (Grable, Page, and Boop)
He leafs tenderly through the endless pages of her body
The journal of her journey to this timeless moment
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore, Sharp Little Pencil
Didn’t need a website to prompt me for this one – just Lex! Dedicated to a wonderful partner, husband, and friend.
MATCHES
Shadows play on the walls
bathing us now in
a simmering glow
Candles everywhere
in this room
ready to light the fuse
or simply illuminate
hours upon languid hours
of our tender embrace
Candlelight romance
That sexy sound
of a match being struck
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 