scribbler
Aug 12, 2015

BANKED EMBERS

Outside the daylight slowly fades
calling forth the end of day
while we sit here on this old couch
supper eaten, dishes put away.

T.V. on, some old reruns,
just for background noise you see,
to relax the past day from our bones.
I squeeze your leg, you smile at me.

Through the glass doors stars appear
as the trees outside slowly turn black
and the details the world dissolve
all while my fingers trace your back.

Then you rest your head on couch's arm
and perch your feet upon my ample lap.
I know they're there for me to rub
as we follow this familiar map.

Massaged feet and then a spastic jerk
(random tickles are the price you pay)
I glance at and share a smile with you.
A whippoorwill shouts while we play.

Then the hour chimes its end,
you arise, hug me and say good night
while I try to write some little thing
of how love's not always hot and bright.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost

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Comments

Roscoe Lane

A story of contentment and love well written in this poem, a lucky man to have such a loving relationship. But also because you write about it so well. Regards Roscoe...

lovedly

we all love to do

wives only show the way
times are gone like olden days

when there was no need for light to play
now we play a bit too light
feet and ankles ache
it's time to say goodnight

do compose a lovely one
by the way
as night slumbers and memories fade away

Many will love to see your play
Ah now in older lover's ways

How would you marry up to days gone by
tell the whole world the need to still say why

ere the night
bids goodbye

all guys and olden gals
must still try