Dearest anticipation, infinite pages, potential unmeasured.
Hopeful lovers seek the rounded cheek, sultry winks, and soft smiles.
Not I, no. It’s the stark white geometric shape of your face that I crave,
to which I return again and again with gratitude.
True, you do not smile. Nor do you frown in judgement. You stare back at me,
waiting, accepting in easy silence whatever I am compelled to say. Whatever
I must say. Such generosity—this is optimism unending.
You have such faith in me.
Inspiration from the early bird prompt at NaPoWriMo: Write a poem in the form of a love letter … to an object.
Surely the object is obvious 😉 Yes?
For the title I chose a line from Shakespeare’s Sonnet #65, because it is a very traditional love poem, and because I wanted at least some hint of a traditional element included. The form is the same as that used in my own letter writing series shared back in the spring of ’17, which was inspired by segments of Truth & Beauty by Ann Patchett.