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

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

he forgot the (r) in togethe(r)

i didn't point it out
actually, i didn't even notice
but that's how love is,

© 2015 Jennifer Wagner

Poem © 2014 Andrew Romero
Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

My eldest son wrote this concrete poem and put it on the door of my room last Mother's Day (on wide strips of tape, not right on the door itself, ha). I have yet to take it down because, well, why take it down? And it is the month of love!

Saturday, January 31, 2015

Pacific Northwest

Green winter notes
in January
bleed into February--
scent of pine, lavender,
           honey in my tea.

We slice lemon,
bake salmon, peppery
and warm

           like you,
a wild, wild rose,
no hint of snow--
grow 'round my calves,
up my thighs,
hug my hips
a little tighter,

hold me
to spring.

© 2015 Jennifer Wagner

Sunday, January 18, 2015

after the long hours

write me a song
with your eyes
like you do

hang up your helmet,
your axe,


© 2015 Jennifer Wagner

Image © 2015 Jennifer Wagner

Two tenWord poems. Over at dVerse this week we were offered to play with the tenWord form. These two can be read together as one little love poem.

For Ian,
for Poets U,
and for all the spouses of firefighters...may the hours quicken!

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Hunting Season

The leaves in silent fire
are mellowing,
a cool, crisp blaze
before the frost—
the last cracKle, pOp
before Old Man Winter
grays us with his beard.

We watch
as orange and white
petals of autumn suns
l           i           n          g                      e                                  r
like paper lanterns,
and then
the current
rolls them on—

I snuggle in
close beside you,
sip roasted dandelion tea
dripped with honey in the cup,
and on my tongue—

hoping you
track the scent
and catch me


© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Tuesday, September 30, 2014


Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

There are things we lost
in the flood

or after it
in the seeping, standing water

up past our hips.

It’s no use;
they’re gone.

Remember when
I told you

I thought
we weren’t strong enough,

maybe we
were too damaged

to make this work?

But you
only remember me saying

I’d stay
and let you try.

And for that
you’d give up everything, again,

because everything
means nothing.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Friday, September 12, 2014

Things I Should Know By Now


something spilled
after mopping.

to not have
brushed teeth,
even with several reminders.

to throw garbage bags
“at” outdoor garbage bin
instead of “in” it.

to fret about being late
worse than
the White Rabbit.

dirty plates,
empty pizza box
where nineteen-year-old


to be loved
despite words
I should not have said
regarding the above.

to repeat.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Never Stop/Taking Me Home

On the train from Chicago
we are all colors, flavors—
caramel, dark, light.

A young couple, clad
all in red and white, waits near us;
soccer fans
heading back from
Liverpool FC v. Olympiacos.

I had noticed them earlier
on the way in—
laughing at photos on his phone,
their tan legs, intertwined.

And across from us now
an even younger couple,
dark chocolate skin, laughing, electric—
their delight in each other
making me feel like grinning silly,
floating too.

Young love
makes a strong point:  never stop flirting
with the one you want to keep.

She grabs his hand, massages,
notices a scar.
I catch a snippet of what
he says, there’s a story behind that.
Let me tell you

And I drift away
to the conductor nearing our seats,
hear you say, I lost our other ticket
blew onto the tracks

Don’t worry about it, he says—
waving your money away
with his face-consuming grin.

And we are on
to East Chicago,
where the roots of you grew—
leaning my head
on your shoulder
that for 16 years
I’ve trusted
to take me home.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

photo © 2014 Ian Wagner

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Poème, 16

The Ad Says:  Spirited. Adventurous. Intuitive.

Don’t change, you say,
inspired by the song of love triumphant
and the scent I wore when you first loved me.

You say you like it,
whatever it is,
when I curse myself
for being too much of this
or not enough of that.

And I guess that does about sum it up.

Even when I don’t,
you love me
as I am.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

In a few days my husband and I will celebrate our 16th Anniversary.  Poème is the fragrance I wore back when we first met and is also the title of a work by Amédée-Ernest Chausson which was originally subtitled The Song of Love Triumphant .

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Down Deep

a summer rain
a giggle in your sleep

crying, the good kind

the smell of coffee
the first sip

breaking the last of anything
in two
giving away the bigger piece

the end of a good book
the beginning of it





© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Scrapbooks and Fireworks

Summer’s kisses past
are in my dresser—

caresses pressed
between pages
like petals.

A thousand moonlights
are in my closet,

and wished upon stars

s          p          r          i           n         k          l           e

s          p          a          r          k          l           e          s

in a box on the shelf.

But summer nights,
and moonlights,
and stars—
like night lilies,
like fireworks,

are best
in their living,

like you,

here & now, owning

with more than just a memory.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Tuesday, May 27, 2014


yellow sun


sails bright                                                                          d
and                                                                             e

 r                                                         n
i                                   o                                             
b          b

in the wind

seafarers seeking
the greatest, lightest burden of them all,

the spice, cocoa,
paint and dye,
the import/export—
of color, comfort,
and risk—

soaring like a fuchsia bird
in an infinite, indigo sky


us to come along,

to gather up our
castaway hearts
and leave our
shipwrecked shores

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Amanda Marie

We line pebbles
on the path,
for each day,
and hope for more.

Our eyes rove
the swish of leaves
in the verdant lushness
of treetops,

the bright snaps
of daisies,

the flitting burst
of butterflies
that land soft on our arms
and legs
and flip-flopped toes,

the swell
of the ocean,
with joy.

We watch
the sky burn pink
when night falls
and the stars begin to dance;

and contemplate
how all this reminds us
of how love’s branches budded
to bring us your smile.

Maybe tonight
Gavin and Cassidy and Sawyer
will dream
of their mother’s eyes,

Derik, her voice at his ear,

and Susan
of her little girl
so brave, so strong.

Something like
God’s lovenotes
even when
we’re not looking.

And what we thought
were scattered pebbles
lost in this life’s storm

are picked up
and churned with God’s tears
and our own,

placed in His bottle
these new-polished pebbles
are jewels
close to His heart,
treasured and unforgotten,

until we see
your smile bright again
and are


“You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book.”  Psalm 56:8 NLT

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Behind the poem:  a few days ago my sister asked me if I could write a poem for her sister-in-law’s daughter, Amanda, who had been a given a prognosis of two weeks to live, as a special gift to her family.  She survived leukemia as a young child and had more recently been diagnosed with cancer again.  Yesterday she passed away.  She was 31 and has three children who are 8, 6, and 4 years old.  This poem is for her, for them, the man she shared her life with, her faith-filled mom, and all her family and friends who love her and wait for the day they will be together again.  With love and prayers for comfort and peace. ~ Jen