 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:37:25 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 177882
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Lists
[time] => 2014-03-04 01:51:08
[hometext] => Who lists you?
[bodytext] => Women keep lists in their heads; The night you met; the day you wed. And every chore and thing-to-do Are listed in her memory too. Each and every room reminds her Of a task that waits behind her. Fold the socks; ink the printer; Pull out spring and pack the winter. Paint the kitchen; patch a hole; Nourish dreams; mend a soul. Make a wish upon a star; Fix the hinge that hangs ajar. Kiss it better; hide the scar. Thoughts unwritten; thoughts unsaid; Women keep lists in their heads And tuck the children into bed. Nowhere can she hide from knowing! (Even with the shower going, She can hear the weeds re-growing). Checks her list and while she dreams; She’ll weigh her worth against its scheme; The lists get longer, so it seems. Asleep she notes the faintest squeaking; Or the bathroom faucet leaking; (May not hear a gun go off; Yet wakens to a baby’s cough.) There are lists she can’t turn off. Though you’re sure she isn’t noting; Ten years later she’ll be quoting; (When you thought it safe for voting)! A list for hopes she can’t resist; (Perhaps they never will exist). And don’t forget, a list of lists! Do her wrong; she can’t forget; Sadly, to her great regret. Lists can make her cry, and yet; She keeps a list for each of you; For that’s what love makes women do. What you want, what you fear; All your days are journaled here. Scraps of lifetimes, yours and mine; Gathered up in pantomime; Carried in her book of time. When she’s gone you’ll leave no track; Cast no shadow; come not back. For that, which was, exists no more; But you go on, just as before; Because your name with pride she bore. And when his boys had grown to men; They came one day to ask again: “What was it that you hoped for me?” An old man answered longingly; That you’d be brave, to stand alone; Until your heart had found its home; And if your life she softly wished; And breathed upon her woman’s list; No greater gift was there than this. [comments] => 7 [counter] => 349 [topic] => 23 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com