When Valentine’s Day Is Poetry in an e-book’s Morning Glory

Morning Glory

She let me add
a climbing vine
to her garden

Those trumpets opened,
the blue flowers
in my every morning,
that yet still, today,
cry for sun.

The morning glories were
twisted around the fence —
the blue flowers were
our only compromise, because

I hated the red
crinkly marigolds
or whatever
the easy hardy ones were.
I hated the woody geraniums —
too tough.

I loved the delicate flowers
like her.

I liked the blues, asked
if we could plant a morning glory
as beautiful as her.

Every morning is like her:
beautiful and elegant
blue climbing

But she was too dainty to
climb higher that mortal trellis,
live longer than
a twist of fate.

I should have
grown her with thorns
prickly but strong,
made her an immortal rose, but
I could not.

— Douglas Gilbert

From: Poems of Love Lost and Found

by Douglas Gilbert in the iBookstoresm

This book is available for download on your iPhone, iPad, or iPod touch with iBooks and on your computer with iTunes. Books must be read on an iOS device.


We are glowing with poems because from the journey of a dream I awoke happy, enveloped in you under covers, my Valentine. Enraptured in the blankets of home with you, of you, our embrace is the brightness of us, with us. We are the morning together, together in love. An awakening is here to be for real at home, a peaceful passion, a satisfaction day, not dreaming but being in the lightness of us, with us. We are warm being the morning sun, like banners waving playfully above the river of Love, these extremely rippling, our streaming, child to the river. Ripples of the day, we stream like banners waving playfully above a gentle brook, child to the stream. The child’s babble is joyful enough to be a gurgle in a float-along morning. We splash along, embraced by immersion, the kiss of the day, fantastic and better than a dream.


2 thoughts on “When Valentine’s Day Is Poetry in an e-book’s Morning Glory

  1. I have a fence that would be perfect for morning glories…it’s wooden and has space between each plank that the vines could grow through. I bet it would be beautiful if i had flowers growing in and out and up and down…I planted a bunch of flowers last year, i think some are supposed to come back. The plants outside my bedroom window still had little white flowers on it at Christmas this year. I guess it hadn’t gotten cold enough to hurt the plant yet and with it being so close to the house under the ledge of the roof it just kept blooming.
    Your poem is so lovely…

    1. Thanks. There have been so many mild days in many parts of the country that some people are having spring allergy problems now because so many flowers are blooming early. That might make a good poem: the miracle of the Christmas white flowers — in the doom of the winter it was a sign of something surprising that happens in the poem. The poem could start on a gloomy downward path, then the observation of the little white flowers etc…

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