At your touch
at your touch on this cold night
I lean into your hair
which smells of moons and stars
gratefully inhaling the scent
that makes me tipsy
as a hummingbird
too full of nectar
the faces of our children
not yet born
will glow with wonder
when we tell this story
thirty years from now
and they will tell it to their children
speaking in hushed voices:
how a farmer loved his wife
through sixty years of drought and plenty
while suns and stars and planets
kept whirling round the fields
and wistful neighbors spoke with reverence
of the fertile pair
More Sunday’s Whirligig #144
More Poetry Pantry #386 at Poets United
Posted on January 14, 2018, in poetry, Poetry Pantry, Poets United, Sunday's Whirligig and tagged children, cold, faces, farmer, lean, moon, night, round, speak, stars, touch, wistful. Bookmark the permalink. 12 Comments.
Magical Mystical Teacher 
What a lovely story.
Indeed, someday their many children WILL know the story of the love of this ‘fertile pair.’ (Can’t help but smile at the ending!)
I love this rich piece..a wonderful story and poetic phrasing
Just wonderful! So full of imagination, and images!
I do love the thought of this… so much more of family when you are connected to the earth and fields….
What a beautiful poem…..I especially love her hair smelling of moon and stars, and the shiny faces of their unborn children. What a lovely life this sounds.
I think there is a bit of magic in that pair, as their love circulates in the air.
What a beautiful tribute to the kind of love that lasts through the ups and downs of all the years,
Elizabeth
https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2018/01/14/weather-or-not/
How beautiful and touching and a little smile on my face.
How beautiful your words – thank you for sharing your magic.
Anna :o]
So lovely. I love the hummingbird image.
How absolutely beautiful in all ways!