Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

Saturday, May 10, 2014

no matter how you spell it...

photo © 2014 jennifer wagner

if i could
i would

break off
a piece
of the sun

to give
to you

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mother’s hearts out there!

© 2014 chalk sketch by me and my 6 year old.  He loves his familywe’ll keep working on the spellingsmiles

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Lovers' Boats (Naked, Unashamed)

Fairyland – Sunita Khedekar

beez buzz


the pleasant


of cotton candy pink
feather and wing

and clothes

and skin dip-

into the splash, giggling

a sarcoline
memory quilting

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

At dVerse Poetics Grace has invited us to write to the delightfully vibrant artwork of Sunita Khedekar.  She also encouraged us to use color words with the help of The Phrontistery.  The piece I chose to write to reminded me of a cabin we’ve stayed at a few times with a private outdoor hot tub in a beautiful natural settingtrees, creekjust picturesque.  We always chuckle at a sign they have posted there that reads, “We don’t skinny dip, we chunky dunk.”  Anyway, however you aremake a splash. ;)

Wednesday, February 26, 2014


if only
they all were nuzzles
on the neck,
sweet nothings
at the lobe and ridge—

that none
were the black tar kind/unkind
to speaker
and hearer both—
like virus
from the vector’s mouth

if only
the cure could spread
as fast as the disease.

up to you and me?

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Catching Foxes

Hedge the rows
where the birdnote grows,
lark a tune
‘neath the fiddlehead moon,
tip the wine glass,
burn the firegrass,
bellow and croak
at the midnight stroke,

thatch the stormroof,
squall and rainproofed—

and all the other
rhymes and metaphors
it takes to build and protect
something worth something.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

*title taken from Song of Solomon 2:15

sharing with dVerse at OLN

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

it may not be wildstyle graffiti but…

photo © 2014 jennifer wagner

maybe it’s both

and an art
the way you scribbled
and scratched
past my walls

with your heart

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Photo:  My hubby tried his hand at some love proclamation graffiti—inside our house -ha.  We’re painting the interior walls this week.

*Wildstyle graffiti is a complicated and intricate form of graffiti.

P.S. J hearts I too.  Happy Valentine’s Day!

Monday, January 27, 2014


Like a classic car,
or old school stuff
that never goes out of style,

like when people say, in admiration,
“they just don’t make ‘em like that anymore”


make me grin
and say to myself,

yes, they do.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

An instant classic.   
I know, I know, spoken like a Mom.  But what can I say?  I adore the kid.  He celebrated his 14th birthday this weekend.  
Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Monday, November 18, 2013


a love note/poem from my hubby
via refrigerator magnets
photo © 2013 jennifer wagner

a soft tangerine moon
glows there
where i put my hand over your heart,

feel your breath slow and even
chest rising, falling
            rising, falling

and i can’t catch myself, either—
from drifting off
into the green poem
of us

where you
lift me up to the branches
to catch my footing,

where the
light shines through
its trembling leaves.

i hold them tight,
let the sun play in angled drops
on my face, close my eyes to
feel the favor
of your smile,

and then open them again
to focus
on eden appearing,
in the closing
of the blue distance.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

dVerse OpenLinkNight 

Monday, November 11, 2013

Simply Jesus

your blood blooms still 
© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

When there’s not enough hyssop
to cleanse me of all these flaws—
I think I must live with them,
make slow improvements
with the
tick tick tick
of time’s cruel elements.

I know too well this unruly thing
inside me is me,
but there, too,
is the me that hungers for her first love

somewhere buried beneath
bruising, hardening, scarring
it throbs,
however disjointedly.

I am not a girl of
ritual, rules or religion.
I only know that at fifteen
I just wanted
to hold Your hand.

And now,
beyond church
and the things they add to it all,
and bitter politics
and the things they take away from it all,
and morality,
and all these rules I break—

I stand here today
when did I ever get the idea
You were not enough?

In dark,
in cloud,
in lightless days,
Your blood blooms still.

And I remember
I never needed
anything else anyway.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

1 Corinthians 2:2-5.  And I, brethren, when I came to you, did not come with excellence of speech or of wisdom declaring to you the testimony[a] of God. For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness, in fear, and in much trembling. And my speech and my preaching were not with persuasive words of human[b] wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith should not be in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.

Monday, September 9, 2013

The Finest Thing

High Angle Rescue Drill, Firefighter Ian Wagner
Photos © 2012 Ian and Jennifer Wagner Family

On the deck
sipping the last of summer
from my glass of iced coffee,
I’m drenched in a moment
of luscious sunshine,
one of the few left before
autumn’s return.

I’m watching our youngest boys
with delight—
plastic swords and shields in their hands,
attacking The Alien, also known as
the small green sprinkler
with four arms
and a mind of its own.

A miniscule, slate blue butterfly
flits by
and then a larger one, white and clumsy—
meanders by too.

Does it know where it’s going? 
I like thinking it doesn’t,
it just floats along, discovering.

But I know as I watch
two crows
wave west over my roof,
looking so purposeful,
that there are jobs to do, of course—
and each one of us has our own.

A neighboring apple tree
is nearly full of green-gold apples,
three Asian pear trees are laden too—

our Polynesian neighbor
will fill sacks full of the succulent fruit soon,
drop them off on our porch,
with his brown-sugar fingers
and white smile, wrinkled.

My contentment spreads,
a drunken, giddy peace
in the listening to leaves rustling—
still clinging, green, to trees.

They will fall soon enough,
as time keeps its own pace.

I’ll savor this good day
with the gray day of remembering looming,
ashy, grating,
for the grief of
New York’s Bravest, Best and Finest
and all who fell too soon.

But real, too, is the spirit
of what is the best of us.

And that has lived on.

I know it
in the browned fingers of giving,
in the bright laugh of the innocent,
and in your mouth on my neck—

like a breeze,
like sunshine.

I am reminded,
here, in this moment,
not eclipsed
by any large, evil scheme,
that come what may,

some will continue to Give,



And that is still The Finest Thing
on any given day.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Saturday, August 17, 2013


© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

I searched and searched
for the sun, but could not find it.

So I traveled east to where your arms
grew soft against mine, softer.

The full bloom scent of electric blue
burst within the wild

to chase that dark day wisp of cloud to white—
white like night when just past black,

and into new day dawning
to find and enter that centered

rose of sun,
asking where I’ve been.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Monday, July 29, 2013

Meant to Be

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

It only takes a moment
to see the light

as it’s crossing your path,
like quail to the apricot tree.

It only takes a moment—
and fifteen years later you know

it still is.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Tomorrow my husband and I will be celebrating our 15th Anniversary.  I have been absent from the blogging world for a bit…vacationing where there is not much internet connection and will be absent a bit more for celebrating our Anniversary.  I hope summer is treating you all well!