Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.22

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

‘You are the tea leaves I am the tea pot I the tiny snowflake and you the snow’
Ode to Mum by Maria Williams

Leap year;
I hear, 
twenty-ninth of February,
only comes once every four years. 
A time for a woman to carry a ring
and ask for her man's hand in marriage, 
a speck of a myth; 
I have no idea. 

I wonder;
of words, whilst I sit 
beneath the bower listening to birds 
embraced in the romantic fragrance
of the wonderful hue blend 
of velvet rosebuds unfold. 
Whereas; the sun is interrupted.

Noonish;
I would say. 
A perfect season 
as it waits for my decision.
My consciousness; 
is noon, 
as I gain confidence. 
While I hold a ring on a string,
around my neck.
As I wander in my patient mind; 
music plays and course through, 
as whispers through the maze in my heart.

I gasp;
I'd forgotten to breathe.

You’re the sunlight, I'm your garden.
You’re  the rainbow, I'm your rain. 
You’re the music sheet, I’m your crotchet,
the beat that strikes my heart. 
I speak of love, 
I cannot bear to be apart.

Leap year; 
I hear, twenty-ninth of February,
only comes once every four years.
A time for a woman to ask
for her man's hand in marriage.


3/1/2020

https://www.irishcentral.com/roots/leap-year-2020-irish-tradition-proposal

Leap Year, meaning February has 29 days rather than 28. While women are definitely capable of asking a man for his hand in marriage on any day of the year that she so wishes, traditionally in Ireland, this right was reserved specifically for the Leap Year.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required