LINDA IMBLER

LINDA IMBLER

LET ME BE YOUR BLANKET

Let me be your blanket,

and keep the deep chill

of others’ cold heartedness

from freezing your growth.

I will dry your dangling tears,

before they stiffen against your eyes

and obscure the beauty of the world.

I will give you freedom:

from cloudy opinion,

and middlebrow mindlessness,

to share with me the music

you hear when you’re alone,

if that is your wish.

I will give you books:

And you can stuff your shelves,

for as you read,

so shall you do.

and you will learn.

I will give you flowers:

roses as sentries along your drive,

glistening crystals of dew upon their skins,

flourishes of daisies and orchids.

I will give you moonlight:

Meek astral beauty,

within the full moon of May,

after the mauve sunset

is reflected upon the top of the sea.

Let me be your blanket

and cover you with sheer glory.

KALEIDOSCOPES

Checker games under trees

and a domino game laid out to begin.

A state of summer,

with bees as little tap dancers atop stems and blossoms.

A remnant of Eden’s lost children,

channeling Thoureau.

The missing pieces of my heaven found today,

as I walk along unlittered sidewalks,

without the constant drone of jets overhead,

Calm nature, breathing peace into my bones.

I see the graceful skiffs along the river.

Welcome.

Here in this paradise,

make yourself as comfortable as you like.

BUS IN HEAVEN

If you spot the sun from the bus window,

that large sphere is resolutely yellow.

Repentance and forgiveness now aligned.

The blessed dream here,

while the damned languish elsewhere.

There is no end to the soul.

Eden was once within our grasp,

now paradise comes full circle-

The perfect turn.

The elegance of cold skin

and the scent of myrrh

ripe among us.

We may recover that great garden,

yet again.

LINDA IMBLER