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Thoughts for My Sleeping Wife


David W. Parsley

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David W. Parsley

Thoughts for My Sleeping Wife

June 1984

I find you in your new skirt. Sleep
has usurped your best intentions.
Nemesis. Nymph. Friend.
Faint breeze in curtains wheels
the afternoon in spangles
across bed and wall - game figures
wandered to cheeks and lashes, earthy fingers
curled in the act of clasping or release.

I wonder if you would know me here.
Accidental brush of hair or lips
could start you from miles of rippled grass,
stiff sailed clouds, palominos nuzzling
strands, forehead laid in drowsing clover.
That meadow I once burned, or tried to, you said.
I cant return. Or dont know how.

You stir and the breeze falls back again.
Still small fires return in their cycle
passing like stars across your eyes.
I recognize you now, would know you if
you woke imperfect and inculpable
ready to speak the few good words,
hoping you're still mine
.

 

.

 

 

 

© 2012 David W. Parsley
Parsley Poetry Collection

 

Update August 2, 2015. Poem now in print, see:
Beyond the Sea: Golden Sands

https://www.poetrynation.com/poems/thoughts-for-my-sleeping-wife/

 

Update November 22, 2015. Received 3rd Place Eber-Wein Annual Competition, see:
Eber-Wein Third Place

 

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

very sensous erotic. are we all not nymphs lol... enjoyed the sizzling read my friend...

 

school is going well. i wish i could spend more time reading poetry. i am learning in english class... which is immensible to my writings finding improvement in a literary sense wise in alliteration. so all is well that goes well. ...keep at it. i am a fan.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Thoughts For My Sleeping Wife - a poem as a gift, tender and intimate. The act of sleeping, the action of the hands, especially the sense of being within her dreams, - all beautifully realised.

 

thank you for sharing

 

badge.

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A personal moment-- with a sense of love and caring that is enhanced by your tasteful use of language. Indeed a pleasure to read. Benjamin

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A beautiful touching perfectly pitched poem. Intimate and yet I felt every breath every moment as if there. Brilliant.

Thank you. DC & J

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David W. Parsley

Thoughts For My Sleeping Wife - a poem as a gift, tender and intimate. The act of sleeping, the action of the hands, especially the sense of being within her dreams, - all beautifully realised.

 

thank you for sharing

 

badge.

Thanks, badge, for seeing and noting the importance of a single word in the title, how it ties into the rest of the narrative and its lyric elements. Thoroughly gratifying commentary.

 

- Dave

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David W. Parsley

Benjamin, it is good to hear that the subtlety afforded by use of tasteful language actually enhances the experience for some readers, particularly discerning readers like yourself.

 

- Dave

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David W. Parsley

A beautiful touching perfectly pitched poem. Intimate and yet I felt every breath every moment as if there. Brilliant.

Thank you. DC & J

Doc, your response to the poem is what a poet dreams of. I am duly humbled, serenely gratified.

 

- Dave

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David W. Parsley

Victor, you picked up on the sizzle which forms a vital chord in the controlled passion, the desire checked by reticence.

 

Thanks

- Dave

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Dave, I enjoyed this when you posted it, and I'm sorry that I'm just getting around to commenting now. Really, it knocks me over. It's a perfect mixture of peace and disquietude like done crying and okay with any or all of it, okay with the other. It's like emerging from a dark tunnel into soft light, grounded, hopeful, patient, resolute.

 

Tony

 

PS -- I agree with what Badge said re the title. It's meaningful. Can't do what you've done here with a painting. A poem is the only way.

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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  • 3 weeks later...
David W. Parsley

Penetrated with your usual insight, Tony. I am glad the poem worked so well for/upon you. Your comment on the unique power of poetry is well taken.

 

BTW: Did anyone else notice that the ladies on the forum did not comment? I wonder if this poem-as-a-gift just exposes another clueless spot in the we're-from-Mars crew...

 

- Dave

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