... the door to our forsaken room opened... yep, sounds pretty much like a God-entree to me! But The Doctor in the house?! Wow! Forget the hand, I'da got him to take a look at my head and my heart as well... or is that where God comes in again?! A finely-etched gold memory in pride of place on the walls of your mind that are always dated Today, dear Gene. You wear his handshake still and we can see the extra-tall inches. So glad you weren't dreaming!! :)) xx
GOD??!! DID YOU SAY? ...WELL...AT LEAST...ONE OF THE NOTABLE 'INSTRUMENTS' OF GOD, ANYWAY. AND...I GUESS...UNTIL WE ALL GET TO HEAVEN AND WE MEET OUR BLESSED SAVIOR FACE TO FACE...MEETING ONE OF HIS FINE REPRESENTATIVES WILL DO. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS & FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS.
love it, Genie. The unexpected is what keeps us going, yes? My father marched with King. Lucky you, to have shaked hands with such an extraordinary person. Lucky you, for grumbling to change places with joy. Reminds me of the old Chinese anecdote - the good that becomes the bad that becomes the good that...on and on. Do you know that one?
Gene, your sincerity in the presentation of this poem is what over- whelms me my dear friend. It is always at the core of your work. Love and peace to you. Jon Michael
Wow! Powerful piece, Gene, which built from the beginning, into an extraordinary ending. Wonderful flow, wish I'd been there.
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Reviewed by Gerard Gauthier (Reader)
Reviewed on November 11, 2010
When I get up, I like to watch the sunrise and this time of year it comes from the south - America our neighbor, the United States..
Its been a long time since that southern sun shined brightly. I miss the ideals of your country, I miss its sunlight...JFK, RFK, Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X...Why do you kill your suns?
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Carole~
Regis
Anna
Axilea
I surely hope it is an actual encounter
how fabulous all the places you have been
how was his hand grip?
Love & Blessings
Vickie
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Its been a long time since that southern sun shined brightly. I miss the ideals of your country, I miss its sunlight...JFK, RFK, Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X...Why do you kill your suns?
You share this moment with elegance and grace, your attitude is perfect in its (true) modesty and that handshake must've been electricity.
John
Best Wishes,
Christine
Love,
Sage
Love that line, Gene. Love the whole poem - substance and form! Glad to read your work again; I've been wondering how you are.