Feeling homesick as the holidays approach. A poem in the manner of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's, "How do I love thee, let me count the ways."
In the manner of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "How do I love thee, let me count the ways" a rewrite for IB.
IB, I love thee. Let me count the waves.
I love thee at low tide’s murmur broken
With the cacophony of gulls’ quarrels.
I love thee at high tide, explosions
Of surf against sand, pier, and jetty.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Quiet sunrise, foggy morning gray.
I love thee most in saying good night,
The sun slipping in a golden glow to sleep.
I have loved thee in sun-stamped childhood,
Teenaged rapture of first love, walking hand in hand,
And with my spouse, my children, my family,
Always drawn back to your shores, the scent, the sound,
In my heart of hearts, only you are home.
Delightfully cerebrated , and fragrant with a touching confluence of humor, sincerity, and reminiscence. You should know, Eileen, that I am one of the few men I know who appreciates Elizabeth Barrett Browning. (-: Peace to you... rlc
Such a beautifully written poem that strikes to the heart of the matter. Simply lovely.
I understand your situation, now living in the Midwest where you miss that distant lonely seashore that you've seen all your life. Strange, but I miss it, too. I only lived there for three short years and only went to the seashore a few times, but the Gulf Coast does not compare to looking out over the Pacific. I recall, driving on Interstate 80 back into the Bay Area at sunset one time of few years after I left, when an immense feeling of "coming home" came over me. I've had many homes since then, but never felt like that in any of them.
With the seasons and the comaraderie of new friends in your retirement retreat, especially at Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year, you will begin to feel less homesick as time goes on.
I'm sure that Elizabeth would be flattered if not honored by your rendering. "Let me count the waves" is a wonderful line of parody. Overall, an endearing tribute to nature, to remembrance, and to the sheer joy or writing good poetry. Bravo!
I hear and agree regards your missing the ocean, as today I just went to the beach to give my love to old Mom ocean, I missed her and she me...enjoyed this write...-e-
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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Lovely heart of hearts in poetry to the shores given wonders.
Lady Mary Ann
I understand your situation, now living in the Midwest where you miss that distant lonely seashore that you've seen all your life. Strange, but I miss it, too. I only lived there for three short years and only went to the seashore a few times, but the Gulf Coast does not compare to looking out over the Pacific. I recall, driving on Interstate 80 back into the Bay Area at sunset one time of few years after I left, when an immense feeling of "coming home" came over me. I've had many homes since then, but never felt like that in any of them.
With the seasons and the comaraderie of new friends in your retirement retreat, especially at Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year, you will begin to feel less homesick as time goes on.
Ron