in a jar and shake it. There's no give in those marbles, bouncing noisily off the side and each other's hard exterior. First, forming tiny cracks, then pieces. No more a marble but distorted, unrecognizable, unable to play the game.
more conditioned for the jar is the tennis ball. Bigger, but soft, pliable, but firm, resilient, equally giving in to the other.
My wife and I are older, a little less fuzzy and the bounce isn't as high but, we're still playing the game stepping over the glass.
This one almost makes me cry, Rusty-friend. It's so intuitive and wise, excellent advice for the newly married or even the newly engaged. If they can't be like the tennis balls, maybe it's best to call the whole thing off. Excellent poem, wonderful lesson there. Would you write another one about a jar with a loving tennis ball ... and the unyielding marble ...
Much love and respect for your unbridled talent. So proud to know you, my friend.
CJ
Rusty, you're incurable rascal, and better be saving for that costly divorce. Put my name in another jar with one of them there tennis balls. I'll have a ball... right then - and them! - Bill
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
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A profond piece camouflaged
in simplicity
Peace be with you
William
Love Tinka
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Much love and respect for your unbridled talent. So proud to know you, my friend.
CJ
From one pliable tennis ball to another, may we always hold firm, roll with the punches, and never crack! ;-)
Debra