Its Place
sentimentality has its place
it's in my heart, it's on your face
in an edict of government, for a hungry child
in the middle of nowhere, all windy and wild
it's in scraped skies over citied tall buildings
it's on the Louvre's walls surrounded by gilding
it's buzzing the field of breeze-blown wheat
at the photo-finish of a horserace dead heat
it lies with the dog quietly resting by the door
the cat's contented purr, the babies quiet snore
it's in the oven, warming with scents
it's under the tree, wrapped in presents
it's written in stories we've all known for years
it's in people you know in your daily spheres
it's right here, on this screen that you're reading
it's after, and now, and time since proceeding
it's in her hair, with its satin-soft sheen
her coy smile at you, if you know what I mean
it's in his brash boast with eased confidence
to do something of import with good consequence
it's kissing your lips, warm and alluring
it's filling your heart and quietly assuring
it's sunning itself, on sweating work days
it's enjoying each other in so many ways
it's in the glint of light shown on my eyes,
to this life lived full, and what it implies
© Goode Guy 2011-11-13
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
