I have always said that I only write poetry when I am stressed, depressed or in love, and that I write my best poetry when I’m all three. It’s so much easier to write a downy poem than a gladdy one. Which probably means Mwaura should be a fabulous muse…
I have an acute case of rejectionitis. Or, to make it sound a little more credible, let’s call it a rejection complex. And because of that, I tend to attract … it. And to see it when it’s not there.
The cure for that simple. Fix my root chakra, change my train of thought, get over it, snap out of it.
Baby steps love, baby steps.
And so this, my first step is to write a happy poem – possibly my first happy poem ever.
Yes I am stressed, yes I’m in love, and yes, mwaura just might be peeping over my shoulder here, but today, I wish to write a happy poem. Enough with the blues, it’s so last season.
In the arms of my love I find rest
he holds me tight on days so long.
In the arms of my love I find peace
he shuts the world outside
and whispers me a song, his voice so hoarse.
In the arms of my love I find joy
he dries my tears with hands so large, so hard, so scarred.
In the arms of my love I find…
So wide, so deep, so true.
Dearest Dimples, Darling Sailor,
How truly I love you.
See, that wasn’t so hard now was it.
♫ No more drama ♫ Mary J Blige ♫