“To Assemble Alphabet Soup”

What if we’d finally grown old?

I’d still play our song on the piano

Until my fingertips go numb.

–

Again and again I’ll play our song

For you to remember every note.

Again and again I’ll whisper Three Words,

Even if you can’t hear me say anything.

–

What if our knees finally get weak?

I’d still carry you an afternoon at the park,

Until we tumble against the fuillemortes.

 –

Again and again I’ll walk with you

For you to remember the steps we’ve taken.

Again and again I’ll whisper Three Words,

Even if you can’t hear me say anything.

–

What if, in winter, we’d catch a cold?

I’d still cook this alphabet soup for you

Until I sneeze too loud.

–

Again and again I’ll cook for you

For you to get well, never mind myself.

Again and again I’ll whisper Three Words.

Even if you can’t hear me say anything.

–

And what if I’m the one who couldn’t hear?

I’d never eat the alphabet soup

Until I couldn’t get over this cold.

–

Again and again I’ll refuse to eat it,

For you to understand the Three Words I need to say.

Again and again I’ll assemble these noodles

Even if it’s far-fetched-

Us growing old together.

(c)

-cameron lancaster

(written: 02-22-14)

Res: (Illustration: http://everydayloveart.com/item/Love-you-forever/11/pgc6)
everyday love- the art of nidhi chanani

“On Having a Pluviophile Girlfriend”

She holds her hands in midair as if to pray;

Trying to catch a handful of wishes she can not hold.

How those sweet heavenly tears race through her fingertips,

Acting as if she would never catch a cold.

–

She whispers how she danced as a child,

Her pink pajamas wet with rain and mud.

Says she loved the tiny twinkles, singing so mild.

A music of calmness and peace, rushing through her blood.

–

She loved to sing while the noise hits the roof;

Either a key Higher or Lower, she never cared

For the rain was louder than her squeaks.

Then we laughed, a childish giggle shared.

–

It was never a sin to forget an umbrella or a coat,

With her, happiness is when she kisses the rain,

As fingertips twined, while droplets create puddles-

until the sun Screams again.

-Cameron Lancaster

(written: 02-14-14)