Thursday, July 22, 2010

Poem: The Changeling

Frangiponi
Sooner or later we begin to understand that love is more than verses on valentines and romance in the movies. 

We begin to know that love is here and now, real and true, and the most important thing in our lives. 

Love is the creator of our favorite memories, the foundation of our fondest dreams, a promise always kept, a fortune that can never be spent, a seed that can flourish in even the most unlikely of places. 

This radiance that never fades, this mysterious and magical joy, is the greatest treasure of all -- one known only by those who love. ~Anonymous~


Changeling: (noun): 1. One who, or that which, is left or taken in the place of another.


The Changeling

by CJ Heck

At dawn,
I looked
with eyes
wide open.

The color of
his hair had
snow-stormed
a wintery grey,
crowded out
to who knows where
to join
a master work
in perfect granite,
his finite features
raisined to
roadways
that buckled
into nose
and cheek
and brow.

Somehow spared
by nature's cruelty
are steel blue eyes,
eyes that walk
my dreams,
and lips
that taunt
and tease.

Where was I
when all this
happened?
Here,
a changeling, too,
and robbed
as well?

Today
when morning
slipped inside
and kissed
my eyelids,
I felt blessed
it reached across
to touch his too.






From the book, "Anatomy of a Poet"







"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck



3 comments:

Lance said...

CJ~ took my breath away - imagery that only you can create . . . you are a poetess remarquable!!

CJ Parrish Heck said...

Thank you, Lance. I appreciate your taking the time to read and leave such warm comments.
Your friend,
CJ

Jerry Pat Bolton said...

Quite a metamorphosis in the telling of "The Changeling," CJ. You have such a fine way of getting into the reader's thoughts and heart. Nice work.

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