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,

                                               too

© 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!

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

For Poetry Jam, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, and dVerse OLN.

after the long hours

write me a song

with your eyes

like you do

hang up your helmet,

your axe,

come

home

to

me

© 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!

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

mid-fall.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Poets United: The Poetry Pantry

Everything

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

Things I Should Know By Now

Expect

rain.

Expect

something spilled

precisely

after mopping.

Expect

seven-year-old

to not have

brushed teeth,

even with several reminders.

Expect

twelve-year-old

to throw garbage bags

“at” outdoor garbage bin

instead of “in” it.

Expect

fourteen-year-old

to fret about being late

worse than

the White Rabbit.

Expect

dirty plates,

empty pizza box

where nineteen-year-old

“chillaxes.”

Expect

rain

again.

Expect

to be loved

despite words

I should not have said

regarding the above.

Expect

all

to repeat.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

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

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 16^th 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 .

Poetry Jam:  Trash or Treasure

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

you,

me,

you,

me

tumble,

taste,

tumble,

taste

mango

tangerine

soil

sand

roots

color

color

color

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

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,

bursting

moment

like you,

here & now, owning

me

with more than just a memory.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

findingMefindingYou

yellow sun

adventure

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,

connection,

and risk—

soaring like a fuchsia bird

in an infinite, indigo sky

beckoning,

beckoning

us to come along,

unanchored

to gather up our

castaway hearts

and leave our

shipwrecked shores

behind

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Amanda Marie

We line pebbles

on the path,

one

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,

dolphin-dipped

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

dropped

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

together

Home.

“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