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All About His Abigail
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All About His Abigail |
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Always Lisa Member
since 2003-06-08
Posts 133
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All About His Abigail, by Always Lisa, Lisa Brow Abigail Abigail, but for that damn cat of yours, the piano silent. I hated your playing then, but now, Abigail I long to hear it now. That piano, my coffin. It's where this ghost of a man rest, but then again it's you. They say I've lost it, Abby my sweet beautiful Abigail. They say I've lost my will. They say I've lost my way, but all I'm doing dear God is waiting for the day to at last once again hear my Abigail play. Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved 1999 ********************************************* The Smell of Orchids Everything these days has a place in this shell of a mans memories, and the smell of her still fragrant, the smell of orchids. This garden takes me back to the day I smelled that first orchid. The day I became a better man. It was crimson I believe she called it, but it was hard to tell that orchids end amongst that strawberry beauty, my treasure of the forest, my emerald eyed gem. A young mans searching for life's purpose, I was taken in. Captured by the smell of an orchid and the sight of her so out of place in the woods that day. Just as out of place was I standing there, at last knowing what kind of a man I'd come to be for the rest of my days. Hopelessly in love and forever awaking to the smell of orchids. Here now after fifty-two years, the caretaker of orchids, my days numbered; looking again for my strawberry beauty, my treasure of the forest, my emerald eyed gem in this bouquet that I'm bringing to my wife's grave site today. Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved Aug, 2000 *************************************************** The Walk I'm taken back to a young man's strides to see his girl, and my straight back stand; all those nights wishing on stars just to catch a glimpse of her in the window, thinking how lucky is the moon to be on watch all through the night. The day then came when the heavens looked down upon us both and there was no way I could ever disappoint the almighty with this blessing. While she slept I would look at her and wonder where she began, where I came to an end but the start of her, the end of me didn't matter. All the same, one is what we would come to be as the years rolled by. After a while she referred to us as a comfortable pair of shoes so fitting. And every waking moment, I saw the world through the eyes of bliss. At night out of nowhere, I would hear her say, "always my love, eternally mixed." She must have known. How could she have known someday I would be walking down this gravel road to look down upon her grave with orchids and not feeling so alone in believing what she said? Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved, Aug, 2000 **************************************************** Waiting Again to Surrender I always wanted to give my Abigail more, but she would say, "You silly fool, you're more than enough." So for a time I did what any man in love and with lint in his pocket would do. I became a bad writing poet in love... The sun made its way through the thick of the wood, in that ray of light, you Abigail. I was at war with the world and at the moment I saw you, I knew it was time to surrender. Today I'm asking you to do the same, will you marry me? I never thought I had a chance but she did. You see, I wore my education on my backside and it must have shown clear through my britches that I sometimes seemed too big for. And no matter how big the waters seemed to rage, she had a way about her that could make me see past to the calm. She made me see the poet in this uneducated fool. She made me see a lot of things... My survival was more than instinct, it was a road leading straight to her. And she pointed out that the only dirt on this Jew was that underneath my fingernails. Here I am today pulling the weeds on her grave and again at war with the world; waiting for the sun to shine through the thick of it all. Waiting again to surrender. Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved, Aug 2000 *************************************************** Carpe Diem I found that old Tom of yours in the garden on Tuesday morning, Abigail. He was doing what that cat did best, sleeping in the shade but he kept on sleeping. "Leukemia," said the vet so I had him put down on Thursday. I brought him back home and buried him in the place he always chose to rest, among the orchids. The same place you chose to rest those last few weeks... My emerald eyed gem was leaving me, and I just as transparent as ever. "Carpe Diem," she said. Knowing me like she did; I think she said that so I'd spend my days trying to figure out what it was she truly meant instead of me giving up. She knew how to make me think but now my Abby, she visits my dreams... Last night I dreamed that the sun was setting too soon for dusk and the western sky, amber, soon faded black. I was afraid. It was as if the world had ended. Somehow I pulled through that fated black. I then found myself making sure they fixed my Abby's hair just so, the way she liked it, pinned up on the sides. I then heard my Abby say, "Open your eyes, the suns going to rise again," and it did. It was nearly noon and the sky was just as blue as the dress I had her put to rest in. The smell of orchids lingering, I in the comforts of our wedding quilt seizing the day... Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved, Sep 2000 ******************************************************************** Drone of the B-52's With my sight not being what it was I decided to take my last drive to see our great grand babies up in Traverse Bay. If only you could have been there Abigail. Those little pumpkin bunches had me wrapped so tight; I felt like a kid again. A kid again... Bombs away, the drone of the B-52 airplane errrrrrrrr errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... Mass destruction everywhere! I had the best model airplanes around. My bedroom was an entire nation. My mothers powder dust floating in the light coming through the window; smoke from the blast. Past all that, somewhere out there, a young Abigail... Strawberry curls, dimpled little fingers banging on piano keys. Take me there Abby, take me there now... Heritage Hill, Grand Rapids, Michigan, where the river separates the old from the new; a corner stone house, a little girl named Abigail Marie... Freckles to no end and as testy as the day is long, as the years are long; her suffering, long. My love for her, eternally Abigail, yours. Abigail, do you suppose I'm like one of those people on the ground waiting for a bomb to drop? Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved, Sep 2000 *********************************** My Senses Abigail, this place is as dusty as the moon with that old fur ball walking dust mop of a cat no longer lazing on the furniture. Do you suppose there's a place out there for dusky old cats in the here after? If there is Abby, that old toms rolling around in a cats dust heaven, having a time of it. What's it like where you're at Abigail? I imagine heaven to be a colorful place, still in no comparison to you standing out in contrast of all that beauty. And I wonder, how's this old fool going to fit into all that? I've had a good life. I've had what most men only dream of... My senses, the smell of a woman. My sight defined by a strawberry beauty. The flavor of her, the only taste I crave. Touched by the best life had to offer, aged like a fine wine, I uncork and pour another glass of Abigail; savoring every moment spent, intoxicated... I see dust floating in the light coming through the window. The drone, "Sir, your wife has cancer." Mass destruction everywhere! "Sir, it's time we close the casket if your wife is to be buried today." I've been in this wreckage ever since. Always Lisa All Rights Reserved, Sep 2000 ******************** I Surrender Time slips away but memories remain for this old fool, and people pass me by and look at me odd. I suppose they think I'm deranged for talking to the past and cursing this rain, but rain or shine Abby; I promised to make it to the cemetery on your birthday and boy is the rain coming down; as if it could dampen this old fools spirit. Hello great old oak tree. Mind if I lean on you awhile? I was on my way to visit my Abigail but my shoulder pains a little, so how about I rest here and I talk a spell? What's your age old secret on how to stand through any kind of weather? I'm barking up the wrong tree you say. Suit yourself old boy, I'll be on my way... "We have a code blue here." Abigail! "Listen people, you have to move out of the way." "If you can hear me, you might feel a little prick." "We have a pulse and some shallow breaths now." Abby, will you be there waiting for me? "Try to be still, this will help you to breath." "Sir, can you hear me, what's your name sir?" "Someone see if this man has any identification?" "Sir, we believe you may have had a heart attack." Bombs away, the drone of the B-52 Orchids, I'm smelling orchids... The sun made way through the thick of the wood. In that ray of light, my emerald eyed gem; My treasure of the deep forest, she stood. Her hand came, gather swift she pulled up her hem. Dance of a butterfly, she floats near. I will now surrender.... My Abigail calls to dance, "Come dear." Abby, I surrender... "I can't get a pulse now!" Always Lisa, All Rights Reserved, Oct 2000 The drone of the thunder, the waiting and the wonder of a man longing for his Abigail; together at last. I couldn't see anywhere to go with this but for to bring him to his Abby. Now, my imagination runs wild of the two of them together and I hope yours does too. I can't really call what I wrote poetry, or even a story. I'm not really sure what to call these, but what I can say is this, I've done myself proud. I put as much care and love into my work as I believe these works depict. I end this work with the forethought I have with every one of my poems... Somewhere in this dull light I shine is a language all it's own. With every tomorrow, I'll shine a little brighter. Always Lisa Oct, 2000 |
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