A Little Lizard-y Love
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Category Archives: Poetry
Foodie Tuesday: Gets the Juices Flowing
Rowdy Rascals Rollicking
With a Full Heart
A Song of Farewell
Ends Only the Beginning
A fond farewell should only end the start
Of what emerged from nothing to become
Much greater than its origins, a home
For all that’s good and gracious in the heart–
What had begun in silence has grown deep
And richer than imagining could guess,
A tapestry of joy and tenderness,
A score of blended notes that time will keep–
Whose voices came together first in this
True confluence of sound and sweet accord
Cannot again move aught but closer toward
Such harmony as, now it’s found, is bliss–
For in love’s benedictory refrain
Awakens what all hearts must sing again.
With gratitude to all at the Episcopal Church of the Incarnation, Dallas, Texas,
and especially to the choir, for welcoming us so kindly during this past year.
Kathryn Sparks
August 2012
In Other Dimensions and full of Dementia
One Never Knows . . .
. . . what might happen when romance is in the air . . .
And so, my friends, ended Another Enchanted Evening.
Just Another Love Song, if You Don’t Mind
Appraisal
What’s the current market value of a hug, caress or kiss?
Why would any self-respecting person get engrossed in this?
Isn’t it a tad surprising we’d make such hullabaloo
Of this silly, unproductive, non-remunerative goo?
That’s the miracle of romance and of loving: that we choose
To pursue ridiculous intangibles among the ooze
Of lace valentines and candies, in hand-holding, making eyes
Like moo-cows and fuzzy puppies at each other—but the prize
Found in all this crazy weirdness, wacky though our loving be,
Is the exponential return on this small investment that we see
When beloved turns to lover and responds in foolish kind:
That’s the truth toward which we hover when two loves get so entwined.
Her Moment of Respite
Reading
A heavy braid of brown-black hair
Coiling over her shoulder frames
The mourning dove-brown collarbones
That rise and fall in subtle flight
As she breathes, sitting back there in such quiet repose
As if to lend some grace to that so humble vase of white
Field lilies at her side, and when she turns
The antique pages of that favored book,
She spares a moment’s look to watch the lilies catch
The kitchen windows’ waning light
Just as the late-day sun tips in
Behind those distant trees to
Chase the night
Solace in Silence
Let us look for our peace wherever we can. Let us embrace it and rest in it. And let us always share that peace with whomever, whenever and however we are able, inviting them all into our places of peace so that they and others all around the world, too, can find and disperse the sweetness of true and deep repose.
Mocking, Ever So Gently
Summer teases us with her dramatic, exaggerated changes of mood and meaning, but if we know our own history well enough to remember it, we can be sure that her graces will always return when the time is right.
Art-Colored Glasses 