The Blue Stone

1 Comments

Poem Commentary

Love, Loss, Memories regained. I needed to remember so I could put the stone back in the portals of my mind.

The Blue Stone

One early morning beachcomb

 I spied an unperfect round blue stone

 Now it sits upon my table

 Reminding me of the years we did roam.

 While looking on my table top,

 Piled with stones: I loved a lot,

 Among the white ones was the blue,

 A quiet whisper,

“I love you.”

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GUSTY commented on The Blue Stone

07-28-2010

I LOVE THIS WORK: IT'S SOFT, SMOOTH, SOUND, PRECISE AND LOVELY. BRAVO!

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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